Perhaps Forever & Almost Always
by toastedmuffinz
Summary: Her reflection stares back at her and she notes the gaze her eyes hold. Hermione brushes at her eyes again. She blinks a few times before looking at the window again. The soulless gaze disappears - AU
1. So the story goes

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

So the story goes

_-Tears cannot be forgotten as long as there is song-_

The large great bell rings loud and clear, resounding through the hallways, gardens, classes and dormitories and through the towers. Sitting in the Owlery, with her arms folded atop the stone wall overlooking the scenic grounds within and beyond Hogwarts, a girl of sixteen stares ahead – her gaze unblinking and unfazed by the sudden interruption to the otherwise quiet morning. It isn't winter but the chill in the air is evident as it nips her in the nose and her cheeks flush with a pale hue of red. She breathes out a puff of air, shorter bits of her bangs lifting for a brief second before they fell back down against her forehead. A hand reaches up and pushes against her hair to tuck them behind her ears, in silent frustration or possibly annoyance. As a strand of dark lock tangles with her fingers, she pulls hard, and a memory flashes in her mind.

_"You've got quite a mess of a hair." The voice said playfully. She felt the brush of fingers past her cheek, a gentle caress as they reached out and tucked the misbehaving lock of hair behind her left ear. "But I rather like it, to be honest." The words came out in sincerity, without a hint of sarcasm or tease. The fingers moved away, but not before trailing down the edge of her cheek onto her jawbone, lingering for a second before they pull back._

Hermione Granger shakes her head as if trying to shake the memory away. She bites hard at her lower lip while taking in deep breaths. A silent pain whips through her being and grips at her heart. Her breaths come out short and harsh. She looks up at the bright skies above her, hoping somehow, someone would come by and take the searing pain from her. It feels like a silent killer to her, the pain that is, quiet and haunting, striking her whenever she feels the slightest bit of happiness. Hermione wonders if happiness is a concept that has gone out of her grasp. Something she had once known but will never know of anymore. A bitter laugh escapes her at the thought.

_"That sounded like a hyena that just lost its meal."_

_"You are awfully perceptive when it comes to my laughs."_

_"Because I have a favorite out of the many that escapes you." The voice answered._

_"It's a little creepy with your obsession for my laughs."_

_The voice broke into a chuckle, "I can't help it if I'm drawn to them."_

The pain rips through her again, Hermione staggers before she quickly pulls herself down onto the ground. With her back against the wall, she closes her eyes and inhales quickly. She exhales as her eyes opens. The young witch wonders why she even bothers to fight the pain. It is something inevitable and irrefutable. Sometimes, when she's feeling selfish, she wishes she had never known the cause of the pain in the first place but then only minutes would pass before she feels the guilt for having the thought. Hermione shifts her gaze upwards to the sky. The sun is starting to peek out from its hiding place, its warm glow reaching to all below it. She feels the rays bathing her and a thought scrambles itself in her mind – is she truly glad to be alive as she is now? There are those times when morbidity creeps into one's mind – provoked by some action or emotion or another. For Hermione, these gruesome deathly thoughts come by without a need to be aggravated – they came simply and easily, like a knock on the door and she opens to let it in.

She hums a tune under her breath. It's nothing fancy, nothing famous, just simple within the same notes. Hermione's not one for music and its theoretical and practical parts, but this one tune is easy to catch on. Light and gentle, short and repetitive – easy for a person as non-musically inclined as she is.

_"What's the tune you are whistling to?"_

_"Just something I came up with in my head."_

_"You are odd."_

_"I know." And the whistling continued._

She remembers listening it often enough to catch on to it, and to catch herself humming along to it. As she did homework, scrubbed the cauldron, walked to class, searched for a book in the library – the tune accompanied her. It wasn't a distraction but a complement to her daily life. She had once woke up to the tune, laughing at herself for suddenly feeling the sun was shining brighter and the skies were much more blue and nothing was imperfect.

Hermione continues to hum the tune as she lays her head on her arms which were rested upon her drawn up knees. She wonders how it sounds like with a word or two yet she couldn't bring herself to put a single word to the tune – regardless of her excellent linguistic skill. Her lips part and she draws to a soft murmuring of the musical note 'la' for the tune. She decides she rather like it than just humming along to it. Hermione wonders if the owner of the tune would approve of it.

The Gryffindor suddenly pulls herself up as she realizes the time. Breakfast would begin soon and she's to be at the Great Hall – like she should. She ignores the tugging feeling within her heart and begins to leave the Owlery with the tune still emitting from her lips in soft sounds of 'la'. The owls stir as she walks past them. Hermione stops at Hedwig's little spot and gives the snowy owl a small smile of greeting. Hedwig hoots softly in acknowledgment. The snowy owl takes a step forward and hoots again, looking at the young witch in the eye. "Thanks, Hedwig. I'll be fine." Hermione takes a step forward, breathing in deeply as she plasters a nonchalant look on her face. She looks at a small fragment glinting under the sunshine, a piece from a mirror someone must have unintentionally broken years ago and left forgotten. The reflection looks back at her, silent and still. She lifts her lips upwards to a small curve. Deciding that it's better, Hermione keeps it as she walks out the Owlery and reminds herself to keep that smile on.

"Good morning!"

Hermione waves in response to Lavender's greeting as the latter walks into the Great Hall with Parvati. Hermione sees Ginny coming up to her and she smiles as the younger girl approaches her.

"Where's Ron and Harry? I didn't catch them in the Common Room this morning. Speaking of that, I didn't see you either. Where were you?"

"I took a morning walk. The fresh air's great in the morning." The fifth year witch replies nonchalantly. She turns her gaze to the Gryffindor table, carefully avoiding a certain spot at the long table next to it, to see Harry and Ron already eating. "There they are." She points out.

"Ron's never early to anything except for meals." Ginny mutters. Hermione laughs lightly as she makes her way to Harry's side of the table. As she sits down beside him, the green-eyed wizard gives her a smile but she notes the brief flash of concern in those green orbs. She obliges him a smile of assurance before picking up a slice of toast and concentrates on it instead.

"Morning, 'Mione." Ron greets – bits of food escaping. Ginny flinches from beside him as Neville, on his other side, laughs.

"I think it's best you don't talk with your mouth full, Ron." Neville comments as he picks a stray crumb from the sleeve of his robe.

"Sorry, mate." More bits comes flying.

"Stop talking with your mouth full." George repeats.

"So –"

"Oh, stop talking already will you?" Ginny shakes her head exasperatedly. The fourth year pulls off a speckle of what looked like eggs from her hair. Hermione is grateful for her choice to sit next to Harry instead. Harry is definitely a far neater eater than the former. In fact, place Ron next to anyone and the latter is definite to appear a neat eater in comparison.

"Say, ready for O.W.L.s?" Neville asks conversationally.

"Hermione is." Harry smiles at Hermione. The young witch shoots him a wry smile. "I heard O.W.L.s are pretty tough. Are they really?"

"Close enough." Fred shrugs. "Nothing beats N.E.W.T.S. though." Everyone, except Hermione, shudders at the mention of their seventh year exams. "It would be a miracle to live through these seven years of Hogwarts with those horrendously difficult exams."

"If You-Know-Who doesn't get to you first, that is." Everyone falls silent at Neville' words. A hand flies up, slapping his mouth as the boy realizes his words. The air within their group falls to an uncomfortable guilt of silence. Ginny exhales sharply. Neville quickly looks to Hermione with an apologetic gaze.

"If we prepare for our O.W.L.s now, I'm sure we'll pass just fine." Hermione says without looking at anyone in the eye. Harry's hand shifts to Hermione, as if in instinct, but she moves her hand to grab her goblet of juice before he could reach it. "After all, the professors will be helping us too." She continues.

"I don't think Umbridge's much of a help." Ron quickly says.

"Theories aren't going to work if we don't have those practical lessons." Harry adds. "The copying and memorizing aren't going to do us any good."

"Not like we can say anything to that." Ron answers glumly. "Umbridge's absolutely convinced that we will survive on little spells to banish little squirts of bugs."

"Cheer up." Ginny pats her brother on the shoulder. "At least it will help you banish spiders." Everyone laughs at Ron's scrunched up expression. Hermione grabs a muffin from the basket, inwardly grateful for the shift of topic. It's still hard for her to hear about it, let alone to talk about it. Sometimes she wonders if it truly shows how weak she is inside – her exterior self being a mere façade to the true weakness of her self. She can't seem admit it to herself, she doesn't want to either. The conversation at the table continues, with Lee Jordan joining in and a few others from the Quidditch team. Hermione nods at their words, listens to their comments and jokes, and for the most of it, she keeps herself silent. Most of them didn't think much of it; Hermione has never been talkative when it comes to things beyond studying, the fact places Hermione at ease each time she's among her fellow Gryffindors. Harry of course, being the next perceptive person after her, notices her silence but in understanding, he doesn't mention anything in front the others. When it's just them two, that's when the questions of concern begin. She understands his worry and she appreciates it yet she can't seem to bring herself to break through her own wall.

_"Why do you hide behind that wall?"_

_"What wall?" Hermione asked distractedly as she spotted the book she had been looking for over the past thirty minutes sitting on the top shelf. Her hand reached up, almost aimlessly._

_"The wall you have around yourself to disallow anyone from discovering your feelings." Another hand reached up next to hers and it easily grasped the thick tome she had been futilely reaching. It brought the book down to her and she accepted it with a grateful look. "A self-defense mechanism?"_

_"I don't know."_

_"Well since you don't know, don't you think you ought to just break it then?"_

_"It's there for a reason or another." Hermione shrugged as she opened the book and her index finger traced the books' page of contents._

_"I'll help you break it." Her finger stopped in its trail and she found herself looking into those familiar eyes that had always carried a warm mirth within them. At that moment, it seemed as if those very orbs were tinkling with amused mischievousness as a glint of challenge briefly flashed within them. A skeptical look appeared on her features but the gaze wasn't the least fazed._

Hermione shuts her eyes, squeezing them tight. A hand reaches for hers with a tentative touch. The fifth year witch opens her eyes, finding herself looking into a pair of eyes that aren't the ones she's longing to look into again, but they are just as comforting and reassuring – Harry's green orbs. She gives him a small smile. He nods briefly and continues listening to Ron and Fred's squabble over Chudley Cannons. With Harry's attention away from her, her mind jogs back into its own train of thoughts. She wonders how much of the wall had been torn down before it came back up again. Somehow she feels it has been too long ago and she can't seem to remember how did she, or rather, they, broke the first stone off the wall.

"Come on, let's just go to Charms." Ron groans aloud, breaking Hermione's thoughts. "That has got to be better than listening to Fred being a prat over the Cannons."

"You're just a sore lad. Can't take a criticism or two." Fred smirks.

"Try ten." Ron rolls his eyes. "Come on, Hermione." Said witch picks up her bag and books, and along with Harry, she hurries after Ron, still carefully avoiding her gaze on a particular spot on the next table. It's a habit she's acquired ever since she first stepped into the Great Halls on the first day of her fifth year less than a week ago. Like a plague, or a curse, that one spot is to be avoided at all costs.

Classes for the day finally end when the great bell chimes a few short times, signaling freedom for the Hogwarts students as they gladly make their exit out of the classrooms, dungeons and greenhouses for some. Hermione willingly places herself among the happy crowd, in between Harry and Ron, listening to the excited chatters of the students, the shouts and laughter. Sometimes she thinks all of it would rub of on her – the theory gives her hope every now and then when she finds herself forgetting, at least for ten minutes or so, of the bitter pain within her. She walks down the hallway and into the courtyard with her best friends, her ears listening in to their conversation about the Transfiguration essay they were given just before the bell chimed. Ron had been hopeful to be let off without homework but his optimism was dashed when a minute before the bell, Professor McGonagall informed them of a three feet essay due within three days. Hermione smiles at the thought of Ron's crestfallen face at the announcement. She turns to Ron, intending to tell him that if need comes to be, she'll help him out with the essay, provided he doesn't bother her with Potions for the rest of the week – the subject's homework are getting more daunting with its additional lengths and difficulty as if an intentional doing of the Potions Master to prevent them from passing said subject, but she stops short when her ears caught a tune. Like a mechanical reflex, she whirls around with such speed that Harry and Ron almost jumps back in surprise.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice is inquisitive and baffled.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"That tune." Hermione answers, still looking around for the source of the tune. Ron's eyebrows knit together in confusion while Harry looks around, straining his ears to catch the mysterious tune.

As if suddenly catching on to the sound, Harry muses aloud, "Isn't that – isn't that the tune the one –" His voice falters. Hermione slowly nods. The trio turns to a group of first year girls by a corner. One of them moves aside to playfully cling onto her friend's arm and they catch sight of a pewter-made music box in one of the girls' hands. Hermione walks over to them, astound in silence. The girls look up when the trio approaches them. Seeing Harry, the Boy Who Lives, within such close proximity, naturally, giggles of shyness and delight escapes the first years. Harry smiles albeit uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry. Could I know of your music box's origins?" Hermione asks.

"My father got it for me from a music shop in France." The first year, with braided blond hair and hazel eyes, answers. "It's lovely isn't it?"

"It is. Are there any more?"

"My father says they've only got two for each music box as each pair plays a tune of their own."

"And the other one?"

The first year shrugs. "It wasn't there anymore when my father bought this one. He thought it was odd that the person bought one without the other as they are usually bought in a pair." She looks up from the music box to Hermione. Her eyes widen when she catches the look on Hermione's face. Brimming with tears threatening to fall, the fifth year Gryffindor quickly turns and hurries away.

"Hermione!" Harry quickly calls out. Instinctively, he runs after her, leaving Ron to embarrassedly apologize on behalf of Hermione's odd behavior. "Hermione!" Harry calls out again as he follows the bushy haired witch out into the grounds of Hogwarts. He finds himself amazed with the speed she probably unknowingly has. She finally stops when she reaches a willow tree. Harry sighs in relief as he quickly hurries over to her. "Are you alright?" As Hermione turns to him, red-eyed with trembling shoulders and shaky lips, he finds the answer to his question. Resignedly, Harry wordlessly pulls Hermione to him – wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. "It's okay." He murmurs.

"I haven't cried since the last day of our fourth year. But hearing that again –" her words break off into a silent sob.

"It's alright to cry."

"I thought I had forgotten how to."

* * *

_-I won't forget your kind smile or your eyes hidden with sorrow-_

Harry gently moves his hand, inch by inch, being careful not to wake the sleeping witch. Evening beckons and the sun gradually gives in to the night, casting a muted final glow over the grounds of Hogwarts. He sighs softly as he shifts his gaze to Hermione before looking out to the grounds beyond them. The evening wind rustles in his ears. Hermione had fallen asleep when she had finally exhausted her tears, much to Harry's surprise and relief. "Whatever happened to that smile on your face?" He quietly whispers into the evening air. Hermione suddenly stirs. Harry looks down only to see her eyes still close.

_"It only works when your lips are curved upwards." Fingers playfully pulled her cheeks upwards. Hermione couldn't resist but to give in to the playful whim. "Doesn't that feel better?"_

_"A little." She admitted. She looked down at her favorite quill again. It was tethered and its point was broken._

_"We'll get a new one." The voice promised. As she looked up to the owner of the voice, a golden brown feather quill greeted her sight. "Before we do, I reckon you could use mine. It's a fine quill, if I may so myself."_

_"And what about yourself?"_

_"I've got a spare."_

_"But it isn't as good as this one." She recalled seeing the quill being used often, for every homework done – its accompaniment was always that very quill. It would have to be a favorite if it was used frequently. It was well taken care of as well – sharpen and its feather unruffled and spotlessly clean. "It's your favorite, isn't it?"_

_"It is. That's why I want you to use it." A smile, her favorite smile, appeared._

The sharp pain jolts through Hermione again. She gasps and quickly jerks awake. Harry startles at the sudden movement. "Hermione?" Her breathing comes out labored and she quickly shakes her head as she tries to calm her breathing. The memory remains fresh in her mind, unable to be shaken off. With a slight panic, she grasps onto her school robe, close to her chest, and wills herself to inhale and exhale slowly. Harry's hand cautiously pats her in the back. "'Mione?" He prompts. She holds up a finger to signal for a minute. Understanding, Harry waits and continues patting her in hopes to help her calm down. He understands her easily, after all – he had his own temperamental mood swings, especially during the recent summer holidays. It didn't get much better but it did occur less often now. Hermione had understood him then – and even now, enduring his verbal whiplashes while quietly standing by his side to prove her allegiance and unfailing trust in him. He knows that he's to do the same now.

"I'm sorry." She offers weakly. Harry nods as he pulls his hand away. He brings himself into a more comfortable seating position.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It would be a bother to you."

"Hermione, you've been listening to me ever since our first year – it's only fair if I listen to you when you need me to."

"You don't seem to think so when it comes to homework, or one of your adventures." Harry breaks into an abashed grin. She smiles despite herself.

"Well?"

"Just a fragment of a moment." Harry's lips form a thin line, slightly unsure of what to say. "It comes and goes. Like a migraine, I suppose."

"Migraines are triggered by a few causes. Is it the same for you, with this?"

Hermione shrugs. "Perhaps."

"You could try preventing it." Harry says. Seeing the curious look on Hermione's face, he continues, "Avoiding the cause of it. Just like a migraine, the causes can be avoided – can't they?"

"I have never really tried."

"You have, or rather, you are." Harry gives her a small tentative smile. "I've seen you avoiding a particular spot whenever we are in the Great Hall."

"It's a habit I've gotten myself into." Hermione picks at the grass. She brushes her fingers over them, feeling the prickly sensation under the warmth of her hand.

"Or you could face them." Hermione turns to looks at him sharply. Harry simply shrugs with a quirk of his lips. "You can't run away for long, so maybe facing it is better than avoiding it. Avoiding is a form of procrastination – didn't you say so yourself?"

Hermione rolls her eyes as Harry chuckles. "That was meant to be used in the context of studying and homework."

"Funny. I thought it works the same."

Hermione smiles again. "Thank you, Harry." She leans her head on his broad shoulder. She remembers the feeling of having another's head on her shoulder. Somehow, instead of feeling it as a bother or a heavy impediment, she had rather liked it then.

_"Could I borrow your shoulder for a bit, Granger?"_

_"Couldn't you just use your own?" She answered without looking up as she scribbled her sentence on the parchment._

_"Comical." A head fell softly on her left shoulder. The warm breathing tickled her neck for a bit and she inadvertently squirmed as a warm tingle shot from her neck to her hands. "You're awfully warm."_

_"Well, I am a mammal." A snort of laughter escaped. She laughed along with it. She noted the fresh smell that reached her senses. It was distinctive with an appealing nature. A mental note was made in her mind complete with a label of the unique scent._

Hermione sighs inwardly. As much as she wants to avoid, she knows it is impossible as one or another; things and people keep reminding her and triggering her memories. Feeling it's all too much to hide from, she boldly decides to face them headfirst. There's nothing else she could do as Hermione's never one for running away scared. It's a reason why she's a Gryffindor. "Harry?" He doesn't answer her but she knows he's waiting for her to continue. "Was it just as hard for you?"

"Close enough, I suppose. Everyone deals with it differently though."

"My way of dealing with it must be the worst."

"Everyone's different. You do remember I was a temperamental prat throughout the summer, don't you?" Hermione nods. "You can't say that's not any worse."

"Are you feeling better now though?"

"Not quite." Harry admits. He looks up at the sky before looking at the top of Hermione's head and back to the sky again. "Sometimes, it gets bad."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione pulls herself away and looks at her best friend in guilt. "I'm sorry, I didn't – "

"I'm getting used to it, 'Mione." He gives her his best reassuring smile. "It gets better with time. Painful, but it does get better."

"Do you think I'll ever get used to it?"

"I don't know." He answers her honestly. "I hope so." He looks at her in the eye and notes the unhappiness within her brown orbs. It stings him to see the bright glow within those very eyes faded and missing, replaced by silent grief and desolation. He earnestly hopes he could find the glow once more but he needs her to allow herself to do so too. The sun is almost completely hidden now, the skies color with hues of purple, peach, pink and blue streaks. The air feels calm around them, soothing and passive. Harry finds himself grateful for the peace around them – a moment in time where they feel the least threatened by a dark wizard. He looks over at Hermione again. "Feeling better?"

"I'm sorry. I suppose I must have had you really worried. Probably Ron too."

"He came over when you were asleep." Harry points out. "We didn't want to wake you and he was satisfied just to see you were at least alright."

"You mean he was expecting I would throw myself off a tower?"

Harry laughs. "I reckon much."

"Well, come on then. I'd hate to have him sprouting more absurd imaginations of my apparent lack of will to live." Hermione pulls herself up and Harry follows after. Together, they walk into the castle, feeling hunger nagging at them. It's been almost six hours since they both had a meal. Hermione's stomach involuntarily growls. Harry automatically turns to her in surprise before bursting into a loud guffaw. "Oh, stop it." She playfully shoves the laughing wizard in the shoulder.

"That's bloody attractive, I must say."

"That's my stomach talking. Stop laughing and come on." She reaches out and drags Harry by the sleeve of his robe.

_"You are hungry almost every two hours." She exclaimed as she pulled a wrapped sandwich from her bag. Within a brief second, the sandwich was gone from her hand. She looked up to see the grinning features aimed at her. "Honestly, it's an incorrigible habit of yours."_

_"I'm at a growing age where constant feeding of nutrients is essential." The reply came haughtily._

_"But you eat too much."_

_"And yet you continue to feed me anyway."_

_Hermione almost blushed. "That's because I hate knowing I am starving the daylights out of a certain someone. You really ought to pack your own snacks in your own bag."_

_"And miss out on a reason to see you every two hours or so?" Hermione couldn't hide her blush anymore as the warm feelings rose within her and colored her cheeks with a rosy flush of shy pleasure._

Hermione gives a small smile at the flash of memory. As she makes her way into the Great Hall to the Gryffindor table, she finds herself avoiding the same spot again and walking briskly to an empty seat beside Ron. The redhead nods at her in greeting, she's glad he doesn't try talking as his mouth is currently stuffed full, before passing her an empty plate. She takes it with a smile of thanks and reaches for the roast lamb. The table is merry with chatters and laughs of the students. Ginny nudges her and points out to her a Ravenclaw boy, looking about the former's age. She listens as the youngest Weasley confides in her about the Ravenclaw boy's sudden confession that afternoon.

"Do you think I should go out with him?"

"Well, if you want to I suppose."

"He's good looking, isn't he?"

"Rather much." Hermione nods without much of a thought.

Ginny smiles excitedly, looking over at the Ravenclaw table again before looking back at Hermione, "Don't tell Ron. Or Fred and George for that matter."

"I won't." Hermione promises.

"I trust you."

"I know you do." Ginny beams and returns her attention to her dinner. Hermione reaches for the mashed potatoes and wonders how trustworthy she seems to be. Apparently, bookworms make good secret keepers – at least that's the general perception she's getting with all the boy-crushes confiding Lavender, Parvati, and Ginny seems to bombard her with. She doesn't mind them. She just wonders if she is indeed trustworthy.

_"Do I not have the look of a trustworthy person?" A snort answered her question. Hermione tried to glare but failed at the sight of the unwavering smirk._

_"I hope you know that for a person who almost blew up the Hogwarts' kitchen with her attempt at baking chocolate brownies, your words don't hold much weight."_

_"It was an accident." She quickly defended. "And I managed to bake the lemon squares and chocolate fudge after that._

_"Wasn't that with Winky's help?"_

_"Are you going to eat that blueberry muffin? If you aren't, hand it over so that I could have it for my supper later." Her hand reached out for the muffin but it went beyond her reach and into the owner's mouth. Slightly annoyed, Hermione exhaled sharply. She waited for the second bite before asking how the muffin fared._

_"Fresh."_

_"That's all you can say?"_

_"Very blueberry-muffin like."_

_"It's not delicious then?"_

_"It passes of as an edible food for a quick hunger relief."_

_"Insufferable." The grin appeared and she smiled despite herself._

She wonders why was it that her defenses falter when it comes to that one grin. Or that smile, the one that quirks with a full curve of the lips and has her flailing inwardly inside in silly happiness. Sometimes, those lips appeared in a half smile and she loved those just as much. Her favorite are the ones that graced the lips in a small curve, gentle and innocent-like, a display of kindness from within. She sighs softly and places her fork down next to her plate.

"I'm going to the library." She announces to no one in particular. Harry and Ron shift their attention to her with a nod but make no move to follow her. She smiles amusedly, knowing full well the one place both lads would not willingly bring themselves to – it would be said room with the endless books. Grabbing her bag with her, the fifth year witch exits the hall and climbs up the stairs. She exhales when she reaches the quiet library. The stillness of the library scares some but for Hermione, it comforts her, easily placating her troubled thoughts. She heads to the Astronomy section, the one with the least people, and places her bag on an empty table before grabbing a few books off the shelf. There isn't anything in particular she needs to study for but reading any material at all serves as an enjoyment for the young witch.

Almost two hours passes before Hermione feels her eyes falling to a close. She gently closes the book she had been reading and drops her head atop the thick tome. A silent yawn escapes her as she folds her arm together and brings her head to nestle comfortably within them.

_"Tired, Granger?" She doesn't answer, too sleepy to make produce a functional thought of an answer. She felt a hand on her shoulder and a force pulling her from her folded arms that were atop her knees. It was easy to give in – the grasp on her was reassuring and warm, and it pulled her to a soft fabric and a comforting scent. As she fell onto the warmth that greeted her, the hand moved lower as its arm wrapped around her to bring her closer. Too tired to protest, when usually she would blush a storm and quickly hurry away from such display of physical closeness – especially within public grounds such as the Astronomy Tower where they were currently at, it was an easy concede. "I'll wake you up in half an hour. Good night."_

_"Good night." She murmured and she felt a tender kiss on her forehead – just as sleep claimed her consciousness._

Hermione jerks awake. She feels dampness on her cheek and her fingers gingerly reaches up in curiosity. As she pulls back, she realizes it's a faint trace of tears. With the back of her hand, Hermione rubs her eyes and shakes her head once. She looks up again and at the wall clock. It's almost eleven and the library is to close soon. She says a short spell and the books flies to its respective position on the shelf. Just as she picks up her bag, she looks at the window just opposite her. Her reflection stares back at her and she notes the gaze her eyes hold. Hermione brushes at her eyes again. She blinks a few times before looking at the window again. The soulless gaze disappears.

* * *

A/N: Originally written for Nanowrimo, although it has ended, there are still the themes that I've been following after. I found November's themes from the writing prompt community seem fitting for a story that goes in line with each given theme in the order hence the start of this fanfic. Hopefully, you'll enjoy it much. Thanks for reading :)


	2. And it slowly comes knocking

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

And it slowly comes knocking

_-We are but weaklings pretending to be tough-_

"Hermione, have you ever thought of talking about it?" Ginny asks with a small, tentative smile. Next to her, in the large two-seater, Hermione looks up from her book with a questioning look. "About what happened." Ginny adds meaningfully.

A crease on the forehead appears before Hermione looks back to her book again, "No. I've never thought about it." The fifth year witch finds herself suddenly wishing she had chosen to study in the library instead of the Gryffindor Common Room.

"But talking about it would help, wouldn't it?"

"There isn't anything really to talk about." Hermione looks up pointedly.

"Let us help you."

"By us, who would possibly be within that pronoun?"

Ginny averts her eyes away from Hermione's wary gaze. "Just a few of us." The youngest Weasley knows Hermione wouldn't appreciate the fact that she was being talked about among her peers, even if it's with concern of her well-being. "We care about you, Hermione."

"Thank you but it's not necessary. I'm perfectly capable of handling it by myself and there's no need to trouble anyone because it's never been in their interest and concern in the first place, therefore the concern now isn't necessary." Hermione answers with a shut of her book. "I'm going to the lake for a bit."

Ginny nods and watches the young witch leave through the portrait hole. She sighs softly and looks over her shoulder. Lavender and Parvati, at their seat by the window, reciprocates her helpless frown. "Well, at least we've made it known that we are here for her anytime she needs a listening ear."

"I suppose." Lavender glumly says. Parvati pats her best friend's back in consolation. Despite never having much in common with the Gryffindor bookworm, as dorm mates, they are still equally concern for a friend whom they have been in the same dormitory with since first year. Last year's conclusive end of a string of events had brought Hermione Granger to a morose state that it was simply hard for both of them not to notice. They had watched her transformation from a brave and bold witch brimming with confidence and assurance to a silent and reclusive witch who spoke only when necessary and pulled a smile to her face without quite meaning it.

Hermione carefully avoids the gaze of everyone she passes by as she makes her way down to the Great Lake. When she reaches the lake, she breathes in a relief to find her favorite spot under a particular tree being unoccupied by anyone. She settles herself under the shade and opens her book to read. Around her, students are milling about – laughing and talking with their friends over a game or a study session or even a prank. She ignores them and immerses herself in her book. A whole hour passes before she looks up to ease the small strain gathered at the back of her lower neck. The afternoon wind sweeps past and caresses her skin with a cool touch. She smiles fondly and looks up. Small leaves, too small to hold on, flutters down to the ground as gravity pulls them.

"_Don't move now, but you've got something in your hair." Hermione froze and watched as the hand reached up to her hair. When it pulled back and revealed the unknown object that had been in her hair, she frowned. An amused tinkle of laughter escaped. _

"_I'd expected a bug the size of my fist by the way you had phrased your words and the urgency used to present those very words." _

"_Sorry to disappoint, Granger. It's only a leaf."_

Hermione reaches up to her hair and feels about. She hears a soft crinkling sound and reaches for its source. A pale green leaf with bits of yellow, greets her. The laughter escapes her. A few students nearby turns to look at her with curious gazes before looking away again. Hermione examines the leaf and wonders if there's possibly anyone else she could expect to pick the leaves out of her hair for her. Merlin knows how often leaves and odd bits get stuck in her unruly, bushy dark hair. She remembers helplessly sniffling over her untamable hair once when she was too frustrated with the hazardous Triwizard Cup's First Task that was clearly challenging Harry's safety, that what was a simple poke of fun at her hair had her bursting close to hysterics.

"_Are you alright, Granger?"_

"_Fantastic." She sniffed._

"_Are you sure?" She looked up to see the apprehensive gaze aimed at her. She also detected the hint of trepidation within the voice's tone. In fact, its owner looked rather nervous to be around a sniffling fourth year._

"_If you are too uncomfortable, you should leave. I'll be fine." She sharply said before turning away._

"_No, wait." A hand clasped around her wrist in a careful hold. "Seeing a girl cry makes me slightly uneasy because it's never easy to deal with – especially when one doesn't quite know the cause of it. But if you'd let me know, I'd be willing to help if I can."_

_Hermione couldn't help the small smile that gradually grew on her lips. "Thank you. I'm sorry I snapped at you."_

"_Apology accepted. Well, is there anything I can help with, Granger?" A smile graciously offered itself from those charming features._

Hermione looks at the leaf in her hand again before blowing at it. She wonders if she can track back on her memories to their first encounter. There are those days when she remembers it easily but there are also those days where the image comes in a hazy illustration and the harder she tries to remember, the more the lines start to blur and becomes a distant dream.

"Hermione!" The Gryffindor witch looks up with a start and sees Ron walking over to her with Harry next to him. "We've been looking all over for you." The redhead says as soon as he reaches her side. He sits himself next to her and Harry takes her other side.

"What is it?" With a pleading look, Ron holds up a roll of parchment. "Help with your homework?"

"Amazing, you've just read my mind, 'Mione."

"Anyone can guess that much at the massive frequency you keep coming to me with a parchment in hand whenever any one of our homework is due the next day." Hermione answers pointedly. Harry chuckles. She turns the Boy Who Lived with a wry look, "And I don't suppose you'd be here if you don't need my help either." Harry nods sheepishly. "Alright, hand them over." Both boys immediately entrusts their parchment of homework to Hermione.

"Thanks, 'Mione." Ron gratefully says before stretching himself and lies back on the grasses. "Such a lovely day, indeed. Say Harry, shall we have a game of Quidditch?"

"If you dare leave me here with your homework while you go off flying on a broomstick for a game with the lads, I'll personally see to your detention with Professor Binns." Hermione threatens without looking up from the parchment in her hand.

"On a second thought – never mind the suggestion, Harry."

"Harry, you've miswrote the year. It should be 1815, not 1015. And you've got three facts mixed up between the first treaty of the war and the third treaty. You may want to check on your facts before writing them as it is."

"Sorry." Harry shrugs apologetically. He looks over Hermione's shoulder to see the mistaken facts as Hermione points them out to him.

"And the second treaty was made in Hungary, not Sweden – that's the first. The third and final one was completed in London."

"That's a fine lot of mistakes there." Ron comments offhandedly as he sits up to see Harry's homework. "Did you do this in a rush, Harry?"

"Yours, Ron, is far off than Harry's." Hermione states, "You have gotten all your years mixed up. Honestly, what is the use of your textbook if you aren't going to refer to it?"

"As a replacement for a pillow when he's lacking of one?" Harry jokes. Both of them laughs as Ron's ears turn red at the remark.

"Ron – books are meant to be appreciated for their illustrious knowledge, not for your nocturnal habits." Hermione teases. "Anyway, Harry – yours is alright safe for those errors which I've made small indicators at so you could change them. Ron, yours is going to take me a longer time." Harry pats Ron sympathetically on the shoulder although a teasing grin is plastered on his face.

"Say, doesn't this remind you of our study sessions last year?" Ron suddenly says.

Harry nods, "We had them under this tree too, didn't we?"

"I'll say – studying under the fresh air is much nicer than the musty, old library."

"That's exactly what –" Harry stops short. Hermione looks up at him and his face quickly turns apologetic. He knows she has already discerned the next words that were supposed to continue.

"I'm alright, Harry. It's not like I am about to break down in hysterics if you mention something as small as that." Hermione flashes a brief smile.

"'Mione," Ron peers at her, "are you really sure you're alright?"

"Absolutely."

"We are here for you, you know that." Harry states, a firm tone in his voice. His gaze is unyielding as if to let her know he's serious with his words and an assurance that they will uphold those said words.

"I know." Hermione averts her gaze back to Ron's homework.

"Hermione, if there's anything we can do for you –"

"Thank you, Ron." She softly interjects. Ron and Harry exchange a worried look without a word. Hermione inwardly sighs, feeling she has unconsciously caused her friends to feel as if they are to protect her from all the fears and tears in the world – not that they can possibly do so. She tries to concentrate on the parchment before her and occasional scratching sound from her quill onto the parchment fills the otherwise silent atmosphere between the trio.

"_What happened in 1905 again?"_

"_The Goblin War was almost resurrected due to a shallow and insignificantly misunderstanding between two parties over a mug of Firewhisky."_

"_That doesn't count to be insignificant if it could launch a new set of war." Hermione said as she wrote in her parchment. Around her, books were scattered haphazardly. Across her, a figure was pacing back and forth, memorizing facts of the moons for Astronomy. They were in Hogsmeade, in a quiet and calm field of greens with the sun nowhere in sight and only the blue sky was made perfectly visible._

"_I know. The insignificance was meant for the reason of the silly argument."_

_Hermione looked up and smiled as she watched the pacing figure – a concentrated crease on the forehead, lips pulled into a thin line and ruffled almost messy, dark hair hiding her view from the figure's eyes. "Could you look over for a moment?" Steel grey orbs immediately obliged and aimed their gaze on her. She smiled._

"_Granger?" She shrugged in answer, a playful smile on her lips, and returned her attention to her homework. She felt those very eyes gazing at her in curious amusement._

"Alright, it's done." Hermione announces as she makes a final mark on Ron's homework. She passes the parchment to a grateful looking Ron.

"You are the best, Hermione."

"I know." She deadpans.

"Shall we head off for lunch? I wonder if they've made those delicious bacon and steak bites like the ones they made the other day." Ron excitedly stands up.

"I'm not hungry yet, the both of you can go on without me."

"Come on Hermione, it's been hours since breakfast." Harry persuades. He holds out his hand to her.

"You've got to eat." Ron agrees. "Or I'll eat your share."

"We don't want to get Ron gain any more weight than he has."

"That's right – Harry!"

Hermione laughs as Ron shoots Harry a narrowed stare. "All right, let's go." She allows Harry to pull her up. The fifth year witch feels almost reluctant to leave her spot under the tree but figures she could always come back later – she tells herself she doesn't need to have too much of an attachment to the spot. When they reach the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, Angelina, Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, grins and slides aside to make space for her. She smiles in thanks and settles herself down.

"_Thanks, Granger." Despite shifting aside to her left, the unintentional warm brush of another's skin against the back of her hand caused a fleeting shiver through her veins. Never once did Hermione found herself getting tired of that warmth that seeped into her being and causing her to feel a burst of joy like a firework. She pushed a set of cutlery over and they were accepted with a grin. It wasn't often the Gryffindor table had a visitor from the next house but when it did, the presence was always welcomed with friendly smile and greetings. _

Hermione smiles to herself at the sudden reminiscence. Her smile fades when she catches Ginny looking over at her with a curious look. Hermione hides her gaze by reaching for the plate of casserole, casually ignoring the youngest Weasley. It gets tiring having to hide her emotions and Hermione marvels at the thought of how everyone seemed to be attentive to any changes of a mood within her. Did they honestly think she would break down in sobbing hysterics right in front of the entire school? She shudders at the thought and vows to keep her guard up as it is. There's no reason to let it falter. No reason at all.

* * *

_-I can see it all too clear; the time has come to face my fear-_

"By next week, I expect each and every one of you," Professor McGonagall's gaze falls on Ron specifically before shifting to the entire class, "to be able to vanish your quill at will and bring it back within ten seconds." Everyone, except Hermione, groans in unison. "A simple task that simply requires the concentration of the mind." Professor McGonagall firmly points out. "Well then, you are dismissed. Please proceed to your next class." Dragging of chairs and shuffles of feet accompany the sound of books being shoved into bags as chatters arose. "Miss Granger, could you stay for a moment? I shall write you an excuse letter for your reason of tardiness." Harry and Ron looks at Hermione with concern but the latter shakes it off and gestures to them to leave without her.

"Professor, you wanted to see me?" Hermione asks as she steps up to the Transfiguration professor's desk.

"Yes." Professor McGonagall takes off her glasses from the brim of her nose. "It's been almost thirteen weeks since the final task of the Triwizard Cup," she pauses and looks at Hermione with a gaze that the latter realizes to be of concern, "and as much as we've been keeping an eye on you with your well-being at the best interests –"

"I'm sorry Professor, but I was being watched?" Hermione's tone of voice fell sharper than she expected.

"Yes. Potter and Weasley were worried about you after the final task and decidedly brought it to my attention." Unfazed by Hermione's sudden interjection, Professor McGonagall calmly continues, "They had meant well therefore I bid you to restrain from being irritated at them."

"That was why I was brought to Grimmauld Place right at very beginning of the summer holidays?" Hermione asks in disbelief. She feels the air within her rushing out of her lungs at rapid pace at the knowledge of the situation.

"Yes. Molly, or rather Mrs. Weasley, had thought it would be better if you were within the company of your friends where they, who knew all that's happened, would better understand you." Professor McGonagall gently explains. "Of course, we had considered letting you stay in the Muggle world where the attachment wasn't too close for comfort."

"Thank you." Hermione says softly. "It was indeed better to have myself around the Weasleys instead of home where I was left to my own thoughts and nightm–" she stops short.

As if understanding, Professor McGonagall gives a comforting pat to Hermione's shoulder. "If you are ready, I would like to let you know of the recent developments of his condition."

Hermione's brown orbs widen in a mixture of incredulity and bafflement. Something within her swells in hope but quickly deflates as she wills herself to not raise her hopes. "Developments? Of what kind?"

Professor McGonagall smiles, "Of the good kind. He is able to breathe without support and the Healers are hopeful of him gaining his consciousness soon enough. He's recovering at a pace that's notably quicker than anyone else would under his circumstances."

"So, he's still alive?"

"Yes, Miss Granger. I believe you could say so."

A dry laugh suddenly escapes Hermione as the Transfiguration professor's words make sense in her head. She feels her vision blurring and a short hiccup escapes her. "I'm sorry, Professor. I need to get to my next class." Professor McGonagall nods in understanding and promptly hands a small slip. Hermione takes it and quick rushes out the classroom. She runs down the steps and hurries down the stone steps to the greenhouses. Her breaths are coming out in puffs as her heart thumps beats quicker and she wonders if it might just jump out from her chest. The Gryffindor halts in her steps when she reaches the greenhouse Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs were using for Herbology. Professor Sprout and the rest of the class turn to the newcomer in surprise. Harry and Ron quickly rush over at the sight of their best friend breathing heavily with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Hermione!"

"I'm fine." She quickly holds her hands up and begins to inhale and exhale slowly to steady her breathing.

"Are you sure?" Ron asks.

"Well then, everyone," Professor Sprout calls out to the class, "shall we continue with the examination of your own plant? Observe its colors and how it changes within an owner's perception of it." Everyone looks away from the trio and proceeds at their task. "Miss Granger, perhaps you'd like a cup of tea?" Professor Sprout offers kindly when she reaches the trio. Hermione nods. "Come along then. Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, you may continue with the task you've both left behind a minute ago."

Hermione quietly follows Professor Sprout to a quaint table by the corner of the greenhouse and sits at the chair she was gestured to. "Thank you."

"Not a worry, love. A cup of tea always calms the heart." Professor Sprout chimes as she magically produces a cup of hot tea in her hand and presents it to the trembling hands of the Gryffindor witch. "I trust Minerva has spoken to you." The Herbology professor says conversationally.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall had just informed me." Remembering the excuse letter in the pocket of her school robe, Hermione quickly pulls it out and hands it Professor Sprout. "I'm sorry that I'm late."

"You are excused." Professor Sprout gently says as she looks at Hermione in the eye. "Drink up, you should join the rest of the class soon if you don't want to miss today's lessons."

Hermione nods gratefully before drinking the hot beverage in her hands. Within seconds, her hands stop trembling and she feels the giddiness within her departing from her being as her heart calms to a normal pace.

"_Honestly, one day my heart is going to fly out of my chest into oblivion if you keep doing that." Hermione chided as the laughter continued. She certainly didn't appreciate the sudden appearance out of nowhere, even if said person is one whom she always looked forward to seeing._

"_Granger, you concentrate too hard on your book – that's why you fail to notice my approaches."_

"_Keep it up and I'll be sure to my heart won't keep itself within me for long." _

_A smirk appeared. "So as long as it comes to me, I'll keep it safe for you." She couldn't help but to blush at the clever reply made._

When Herbology finally ends, Hermione finds Harry and Ron hovering over her, anxious to know of her conversation with Professor McGonagall. Wishing to be away from the other curious ears, Hermione waits until they are outside the greenhouse and leads her best friends to the pathway to Hagrid's cottage. Hagrid isn't in, so they settle themselves by the large rocks near the pumpkin patch.

"Hermione, will you tell us already?" Ron says exasperatedly as he drops his bag to the ground.

"It's about him." Harry and Ron stares at her in surprise. The pronoun brings only one person to their mind but neither Harry nor Ron dares to mention his name, just in case. "Apparently, he's getting better. His breathing has come to a steady pace and doesn't need any support like before. They are hopeful of him waking up soon."

"So, he's alright then?" Ron asks bewilderedly.

Hermione nods, "At this moment."

"Merlin. That's brilliant news!" Ron exclaims.

Harry breaks out into a relieved smile, "Are you going to visit him?" Something within his green eyes brightens, like a heavy cloud has lifted itself to reveal the sun behind it.

"I don't know." She admits.

"Why not? Blimey, you've been worried sick all this while and seeing him would do you some good. You know it would." Ron says.

"It's not easy."

"Why's that?"

"I haven't seen him since that day and –"

"You are afraid of what you might see now if you are to go." Harry finishes knowingly. Hermione nods again. "Hermione." the green eyed wizard kindly pats her on the shoulder. She turns to Harry and reaches out to him and the latter willingly allows her to pull her arms around his neck to seek for comfort as she hides her face in his school robe. Ron sympathetically pats Hermione's back. "You've got to go see him."

"What if it's not as alright as we think it is? It could be fleeting moment of temporary and like a dream, it could cease and disappear."

Harry chuckles, "It won't. He won't do that to you."

"We'll go with you, Hermione." Ron offers.

The dark haired witch pulls away from Harry and looks at both lads, "You will do that for me?"

"For all the homework you've helped us with, this is a small payment of gratitude." Harry grins.

"Come on, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would be able to help us out. We ought to hurry before Umbridge begins snooping around." With Ron's words, the trio immediately hurries back into the castle. Just as they reach the stone gargoyle statue, before Harry could attempt at the password, the gargoyle suddenly leaps aside to reveal the stone steps and the Hogwarts' Headmaster's appearance.

"I guess he knew we were coming." Ron whispers.

"Absolutely, Mr. Weasley." The old wizard's eyes twinkle in knowing. "I trust the three of you are in an urgent rush to see a friend of yours in St. Mungo's?"

"Yes, Professor. If it would be alright, that is." Hermione speaks up.

"Certainly. Minerva has opened the Floo Network in her office's fireplace. Make your way there and she'll see to your absence from Hogwarts."

"Thank you." Hermione quickly says and hurries off with Ron following after.

Harry stays back and looks at the Headmaster with a grateful look. "Thanks, Professor. I'm sure his recovery would have much to do with the help of everyone from the Order."

"Run along now." Dumbledore says when Harry looks like he's about to continue with something else, and nods at the direction Hermione and Ron had left for. Harry wavers in his decision to go or to stay to talk to the Headmaster whom he had hardly been given a chance to see since last year. He has questions to ask and thoughts in need of answers. He needs to know why was he kept in the dark and what's happening to him now. But the Headmaster sweeps up the staircase again with the stone gargoyle sealing its pathway as the door rumbles to a close. Harry sighs and dejectedly leaves. When he reaches Professor McGonagall's office, Ron and Hermione are ready as ever, waiting for him to join. Their school robes were off and Harry follows suit, understanding that their robes with their house crest embroidery would give them more attention than their uniforms would. Harry pulls off his tie as he notes Hermione and Ron's ties were no longer around the collar of their shirts either.

"Tonks will be there to take you to him. You have two hours to return." Professor McGonagall says. "Remember, no later." The trio nods in understanding. They each took a bit of Floo Powder in their hand as they step forward to the fireplace. "Miss Granger," Hermione stops and looks back – the anxiety in her brown eyes is evident within the mixture of fear and anticipation, "he'll be alright." The fifth year gives a small smile and nods.

Within seconds, the trio finds themselves an old, deserted home. "Wotcher." They turn around to see Tonks grinning at them with her bright blue hair. "Here you go," she hands them each a jacket, "something to keep yourselves warm and from the attention on your uniforms."

"Thanks." Harry gratefully accepts his as Hermione and Ron follows suit.

"Come on, we should hurry, greetings and catching up can wait." She hurries them out into the Muggle streets of London and soon, brings them into bustling atmosphere of St. Mungo's with the lively mix healers and patients alike around the medical place.

"Where is he?" Ron asks.

"Follow me." Tonks cheerfully says and leads the way. Hermione inhaled deeply before taking a step forward. Her steps are slower than the rest, quiet and almost hesitant, but she keeps her pace within a few feet from them. They walk up three flights of stairs – "We need to avoid getting your presence noticed," Tonks had explained, rounding a few corners when finally, they come to a stop outside of a room at the far end of the corridor. "Here we are." Tonks announces with a smile. She looks at Hermione with raised eyebrows, seeing the young witch at least a good five feet away. "Hermione?"

"Come on, 'Mione." Harry prompts.

Ron sighs softly and lifts his hand to his best friend, "We are here for you, now come on. It's now or never." Hermione shuts her eyes for a few seconds. She opens her eyes with a resolute and firm look on her face and completes the distance between them. Her hand reaches for Ron's outstretched one and the latter squeezes it in assurance. "Go on." As they walk in together into the room that faintly smells of medicine, Ron's hand slowly lets go of hers.

Hermione wills herself to breathe calmly as she takes the steps forward to the figure lying on the pristine white bed, the only bed in the room, and dares herself to finish the last steps needed to reach the bed. The afternoon sun peeks from the room's glass windows and illuminates the patient with a soft, warm glow. Her breath hitches when she reaches the head of the bed. The sight of his peaceful sleeping face, colored and alive and breathing like it should be, brings a choked gasp to her lips. Her right hand reaches out on a trembling note, as if only touching his face would make her accept it is not just a dream. A shot of warmth greets the pads of her fingertips when she touches the familiar features. The warmth tells her all that she needs to know – it's different from the deathly pale coldness she had seen and felt two months ago. Her voice comes out in a whisper. "Cedric."


	3. To discover its truth

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

To discover its truth

_-I cry surrounded amidst the light and shadow you have left behind-_

"It's really him, isn't it?"

"Most absolutely is." Tonks smiles as she stands beside Hermione. "Been watching him for a few weeks now, and if that isn't him – well, I must have been rather thick to watch over an impostor who's supposed to be my charge."

"You've been looking after Diggory?" Ron asks in amazement.

"I take turns with Remus." Tonks shrugs. "Of course the Diggorys come in often but the first few weeks had been tough for them therefore it was up to us to come by and see the lad. Not that I mind, he's nice to look at." Tonks winks.

"So both you and Professor Lupin were the ones who've been keeping the professors at Hogwarts informed of Cedric's condition?" Harry asks.

Tonks nods in response. "It's good that the lad's got his color back, we are all glad to see him recovering. Rather quick too."

"Professor McGonagall did mention that." Hermione softly says with her eyes still focused on Cedric's sleeping face.

"Dumbledore reckons it's due to a personal sentiment." Tonks answers with a knowing smile at Hermione's direction. "Well, we should leave you two for a bit." The bubbly witch gives Harry and Ron a meaningful look. "Let's go get some hot chocolate. We'll bring you a cup, Hermione."

When the sound of footsteps drew further away, Hermione allows her guard to fall. The tears gather in her eyes and falls, streaming down her cheeks and making wet spots on the white sheets. Her sobs are quiet only because she muffles them with her shaking hands. An overwhelming feeling of lightheadedness causes her legs to feel weak and she sits herself down on the bed, next to Cedric. She doesn't know what to say so she merely touches his face and lets her hand trail down to his neck and his arm and onto his hand. Soft tender trails of her fingers make their way around the palm of his hand. She intertwines her fingers with his before bringing them close to her heart.

The afternoon glow lightens up the room but casts their shadows within a visible sight. "Just like my heart." She mumbles inaudibly as she gazes at their shadow on the floor. Her heart feels significantly lighter with hope and anticipation yet a hovering shadow lurks in a corner ready to grasp it back into darkness at any moment. She exhales sharply and looks back at Cedric again. Her tears subside to slower trails and the tremble in her being quiets down. Feeling weary from the pang of overwhelming emotion, Hermione dislodges her feet from her black shoes before pulling them onto the bed as she lies down next to Cedric's sleeping self. She huddles closer to him, her breath reaching to his neck and her hand, still intertwine with Cedric's, moves atop his chest.

"_You are certainly the most comfortable being to be around with." Hermione allowed his arms to be wrapped around her as they huddled together under a blanket in the cold winter at the kitchens of Hogwarts. She smiled and sipped her hot chocolate._

"_Are you sure it's not the cold that's causing you to say such things?" She teased. The fire in the fireplace flickered in heat. Around them, the house-elves were busy with the preparation of the next morning's breakfast, not minding the pair yet happy to be at their service for anything at all._

"_I never want to be anywhere else but by your side." He mumbled into her dark hair._

Hermione closes her eyes with a small smile upon her lips. Just like the night in the kitchens, and the many other times after that, she could feel the body warmth of Cedric emanating from him to her, drawing her in comfort and security. The beating of his heart resounds faintly in her ears, a steady rhythm lulling her to sleep. Hermione opens her eyes again, struggling to fight against sleep, not wanting to waste the short time she's given to spend it with Cedric. "Will you be waking up soon?" The silence that greets her grips at her heart with a silent sting.

She pulls herself up and slips on her shoes again before standing beside the bed once more. His breathing is calm and steady as his chest rises and falls in an even pace. Hermione couldn't help remembering a certain memory where his breathing was still and silent and his chest had momentarily ceased normalcy.

Amidst the triumphant cheers and shouts, the bewildered confusion that swept the crowd within seconds, the howls of cries that escaped Harry followed by Cedric's parents, the flurry of cloaks and robes as professors rushed to the Hogwarts champions, the cold tremble that shot up her spine as she made her way down the stairs and closer to the gathered crowd on the grounds – Hermione had seen Cedric's hollowed gaze in those steel grey orbs, life flickering by the seconds. Ron, Fred and George had rushed to her to grab her when her she felt her legs gave in. As Harry was pulled away from Cedric, howling and shouting like a madman as tears grazed the dirt in his face, his gaze had caught hers for a brief moment – it was contrite and guilty. He had promised her two things before the final task, when they had sat by the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room in the wee hours of the morning for Harry had been too strung up to sleep and she had been too worried to shut her eyes either – to return safely, and to ensure Cedric would as well.

She doesn't remember sleeping that night as she sat by Harry's side and watched over her exhausted best friend. She couldn't bring herself to anywhere else. Something within her was worried that if she were to find Cedric, she may end up finding what she never ever wanted to. Hermione could remember the chaos in the grounds of Hogwarts and how Healers had came by within minutes. The professors had to calm the students while members of the Orders, whom Hermione and the rest hadn't known until recently, inspected the maze and the castle as Dumbledore saw to personally meeting Cedric's parents.

When the next day came and Cedric's parents came by to see Harry, she had shied away. Only when they were about to leave, Mrs. Diggory then turned to Hermione with an acknowledging smile, "Cedric spoke fondly of you. His letters were often filled of stories of you." she had said with a gentle, motherly touch on Hermione's arm. "Do take care, love."

She had cried when the Diggorys left the Hospital Wing. Harry had weakly gestured to her to come close and carefully calmed her sobs with tentative pats on her shoulder. It was then that she came to rely on Harry's strength to make up for her weakness. It was only him who knew of her fallen guard and him alone whom Hermione allowed to see her cry. At the year end feast, she was solemn and her lips were drawn to blood from the biting she did but her tears were silent and restrained – it wasn't until she was back in the Common Room at awfully late hours into the night did she then cry. Harry had crept out from his dormitory to find her silently weeping. He couldn't bring himself to completely tell her what happened in the graveyard – the memory burned him like hot iron, a searing flame to recall the string of events, so he said nothing as he allowed her to cry on him. That was the last time she cried for Cedric Diggory.

Hermione wonders if he can hear her. "Cedric?" Her voice comes out shakier than she imagined it would. She takes the Hufflepuff's hand in hers again and touches it to her cheek.

"_Do you know it's one of my favorite gestures in the world?" Hermione looked at him in curious puzzlement. "This." His hand in hers, softly grazing against her cheek, made a deliberate move to her jawbone and up to her cheek again. He grinned cheerfully._

Hermione almost wishes she could will his hand to move like it did then. To let her know he's aware and he knows she's here – by his side. She sighs softly at the hopeful thought and places his hand back on the bed. A quiet tear falls and she reaches up and wipes it away with the back of her hand.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice is tentative. She turns around and greets him, Harry and Tonks with a smile. A relief smile cracks from Ron's tense features. He holds out a paper cup to her. "Hot chocolate?"

"Thank you." She gratefully takes it from him before taking a sip.

"Do the Healers have any idea how long it will take for him to be awake?" Harry asks Tonks as he makes his way to Cedric's bed. He stops and smiles, a light feeling sweeping over his being at the sight of the Hufflepuff, a sight that's a huge contrast from the one he had seen when they escaped the graveyard that fateful day.

"No idea, to be honest. They have been going around with all the tinkering and potions and charms, but I reckon they are still hitting their brains with more substantial findings." She looks at Hermione with a comforting smile, "Shouldn't take them too long though."

"He'll wake up." Harry says confidently. He turns to Hermione with a smile, "He will." He repeats.

"Well, we ought to be going now. It's almost close to two hours and I promised Minerva to have you back before the two hours comes to end." Tonks says apologetically. "We'll come again soon. Come along."

As they walk to the old apartment home to floo, Tonks fills them in on the happenings at Grimmauld Place. Harry in particular, finds himself excited to hear about Sirius. Both him and Ron laughs at Tonks' reminiscence of the old grandfather clock, which stomped on both Remus' and Sirius' feet just when they thought they had the irate furniture calmed and placated. "The howl that escaped Snuffles," Tonks smirks, "it's no wonder he picks a dog as his Animagus form." Even Hermione manages a laugh or two at the stories.

"He's going to be alright." Ron says when they step into Professor McGonagall's office. Harry's hand reaches for Hermione's, like a habit he's picked up over the short months, and carefully wraps his warmth around her hand for a reassurance.

"Well then, I trust the three of you should be able to hand in the extra three feet of parchment next Monday." All three Gryffindors look up in bafflement. Their house head smiles, "The extra hours with me should have been sufficient enough for your Transfiguration essay due next week."

"Professor!" Ron groans.

"Isn't there any other reason for us to be away from the view of the student body for two hours?" Harry asks hopefully.

"Homework serves just nicely, now if you please," Professor McGonagall gestures to the door, "I have the next lessons' notes to continue with. Mind you, three feet extra is expected for your roll of parchment next Monday."

Ron groans again as Hermione leads the way out. "I'm awfully sorry I've gotten the both of you into this."

"I swear, she probably thinks it's a brilliant idea to have us doing extra homework in exchange for this." Ron complains as he drags his feet.

"There's no helping it mate." Harry sighs.

"I could go by myself the next time." Both boys stop short at Hermione's words. "I'll be fine on my own."

"Certainly not. One of us will go with you."

Hermione's lips quirk into a smile at Ron's sudden protectiveness before changing to a half smirk, "I'm guessing that 'one of us', would be Harry for the most of it."

Harry grimaces, "That's quite likely – knowing Ron's tendencies to skive off homework."

"Oh sod off the both of you." Harry and Hermione laughs.

* * *

_-Feel the freedom like no tomorrow-_

"How's your hand?" Harry automatically lifts his hand to Hermione's inspection. "The marks," Her voice is filled with desolation, "they look awful." She looks up at Harry again, frowning. After Harry's second round of triple detentions with Umbridge, the marks on his hand didn't seem like they would fade but instead have been made much more permanent. The raven haired wizard shrugs.

"Just forget it, Hermione. They are just some stupid scars."

"It's certainly unmerited and unjustifiable." The witch's eyes flashes in bitter fury.

"Come on, Cedric's waiting for us." He brings his hand to his side, with Hermione's hand interlaced in his, as he quickly leads her down the hallway. It's the fourth time within a week they have been to St. Mungo's to visit the Hufflepuff Quidditch player. Tonks and Moody, who had dropped by with the pair, had both left for a cup of tea to allow the pair of friends some time alone to spend with Cedric. As they step into the room, Hermione leaves Harry's side and walks to the windows to draw the curtains further back to reveal the evening sun. Harry sits down in a chair next to the bed and begins to recount to Cedric of the upcoming Quidditch match schedule for the school year. Hermione sets about arranging books in order, tidying the potted plant on Cedric's bedside table, all before sitting down next to Harry to listen. As soon as Harry finishes, she opens the book in her hands and begins to read aloud to Cedric while Harry flips open a Quidditch magazine and occasionally mentions aloud any piece of interesting news in the Quidditch scene. Just like that – the pair involves and revolves themselves around Cedric.

It had been Hermione's suggestion to proceed with such arrangements around Cedric. She knew it must be lonely for the seventh year to be in his unconscious state of possible emptiness therefore by involving him in life's happenings could possibly, she hope, seep into his inner consciousness and allow him to feel less left behind. She couldn't imagine herself sleeping on a bed for weeks end without much of a company and feeling deserted from the outside world.

Ron had came over with the Weasleys' Reusable Hangman, a prototype from the twins next batch of items – though the miniature man was far from willing to walk to the gallows much to Ron's annoyance and Harry's amusement. Fred and George had sent their Skiving Snackbox which Hermione had to be refrained from disposing of when one of the Healers mistook them for sweets and offered them to a small group of children passing by – much to hilarity of everyone and the chagrin of the Healer when the children began to show illnesses of some sort within seconds. Professor McGonagall even brought books over, adding to Remus' small collection where the latter would read to the Hufflepuff boy every now and then. Tonks had found amusement in changing the unsuspecting wizard's hair color and style every now and then when she was bored, swishing her wand with much amusement.

"The Irish team is going to train with the Swedish team next week." Harry says aloud. "I wonder how's that to work when both teams have such opposite tactics and plays." He turns to Hermione, "Remember how much we cheered for the Irish in the World Cup? Brilliant game."

"It was exciting." Hermione smiles and closes her book. "You and the lads were massively deafening. I thought my ears would fall out."

"You were cheering with us." Harry points out accusingly with a laugh. "White and green were all over you."

"I was merely looking the part of it just so I wouldn't look lost."

"You were screaming and cheering the Seeker's name at the top of your lungs," Harry answers, "countless of times too, I might add."

"He's a good Seeker."

"Better than Cedric?" Harry teases.

Hermione flushes and looks away, casting a short gaze on said Quidditch player before looking back at Harry again. "They are equally good within their own standards."

"A very diplomatic answer." He flips open his magazine again and shows it to Hermione, "Then I suppose you wouldn't be interested to know of Lynch's upcoming friendly with the rest of the Irish team against our own England team in the winter?" Hermione's eyes widens slightly. Harry laughs again. "Your interest in Quidditch has significantly increased since last year."

"Well, I can't help it if there are aplenty of Quidditch loons around me." Hermione rolls her eyes. She looks at Cedric again and a soft smile appears at her lips.

"_Diggory. Cedric Diggory."_

"_Hermione Granger." She smiled and took Cedric's offered hand as he helped her up the hill. "I have seen you around Hogwarts. Hufflepuff, right?"_

"_Always loyal and lovable, pleased to be at your service." He joked with a grin. His voice rang clear in the early morning, like a breath of fresh air – pleasant and jovial. "Are you a fan of Quidditch?" He asked as they fell into step together. _

"_That depends on who's playing." Hermione admitted. He laughed with such mirth that Hermione found herself drawn to the sound. _

"_Cedric!" Fred called out and waved him over._

"_Talk to you in bit, Granger." Cedric smiled and quickly hurried over to the twins, leaving Hermione with a smile of her own._

She remembers Cedric had kept to his word, approaching her when they reached the stands and as he stayed by her side, he filled her in on the Irish's team stats and player information – all while cheering and giving her a play-by-play of the match. It's the reason of her existing knowledge and interest in the Irish national team. She also remembers somewhere during the match when Cedric had noticed her cold hands and wordlessly took off the scarf around his neck to wrap it around her hands. His thoughtfulness then had easily warmed her heart. They hadn't spoken much after the match, with the unexpected chaos that chilled the memories of everyone who had been at the supposed fantastic and splendid event of all nations.

When they returned to school on the Hogwarts Express, she had caught sight of him in one of the compartments, laughing with his friends – a mix of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. She had tried to smile when his gaze shifted to hers and a flicker of recognition flashed in those grey orbs but before his lips could curve in response, his name was called as was hers and the moment was broken as she hurried along the narrow walkway and when Cedric turned to look again – she was gone. It was only at the welcome feast that they saw one another again. He had entered in the hall with his friends and almost immediately, had taken to look for her and when he did; his smile came unabashedly her way. She nodded with a reciprocal smile, feeling rather pleased to have known their short friendship during the World Cup had not ceased its existence.

"Hermione?" The Gryffindor witch looks up with a start. "Do you think you could help me with the homework?" Harry holds out his Transfiguration notes.

"Of course." Hermione brightly says and moves her chair closer to Harry's. She obliges by his request easily because she knows she owes it to him – after all, the visits aren't entirely complimentary without a cost, they came with a load of homework. Under the context of being given extra lessons with Professor McGonagall for their interest in the subject for the next year, Hermione and Harry, and sometimes Ron, slip away from Hogwarts for short hours of their day to visit Cedric. Professor Dumbledore sees to their safety by ensuring someone from the Order would always be with them. Though the arrangements make Hermione faintly uncomfortable yet she accepts it all for the sake of Harry's well-being. The Gryffindor witch did not fancy compromising the safety of someone important to her just so she could visit someone equally important.

"I suppose that this leaves me with no options but to obtain an Outstanding for Transfiguration in O.W.L.s." Harry mutters as he scribbles a note in between the margins of his textbook.

Hermione chuckles, "At the rate of the homework we are doing, surely some of it has got to stay in your brains."

"Very funny." Harry gives her a mock glare at her teasing words. He playfully nudges her by the shoulder and she laughs. "You know my aptitude standard is not something I'm rather proud of."

"No," Hermione smiles, "after all, you are known of your incredibly audacious bravery, which has nothing to do with books." She passes him a parchment, "Here, you could refer to my notes." Harry nods and continues with his homework as she looks over his shoulder, occasionally pointing out a property of a spell that he missed. She looks at her own neat handwriting contrasting against the untidy scrawl of Harry's.

"_A flowing script with neatly dotted i's. A careful flourish of a stroke for each t's and f's." His voice was amused as he looked over her shoulder. "Your writing really does define yourself, Granger. Conscientious and admirable."_

"_Well, how does yours look like? Incorrigible and impudent, I suppose?"_

_He smirked, "I'll have you know that my handwriting is neat as it can be with a bit of good looks and charm to them."_

"_Rubbish." She laughed and took hold of his parchment sitting across the library table. She noted the well-distanced alphabets were all written in a decently rounded manner with very neat legibility. Hermione shot him a half-smile as he gave her a knowing grin from beside her. "Alright, so they do have a slight charm to them." She admitted. He chuckled and lifted the parchment from her hands, giving her another smile before returning his attention to his Potions homework._

Hermione turns to Cedric with a soft and fond gaze, feeling a jolt of happiness running through her veins, causing the curve in her lips and the slightly visible blush of her cheeks. She's amazed by her ability to now easily recall each and every moment they shared together. Her heart feels as if it's out on a breezy day, running with such elation and liberty as the winds of pleasure courses through and sweeps all around.

Harry stretches absent-mindedly and looks out the window. "Looks like the sun's about to set soon. Reckon we should be leaving soon?"

Hermione packs her things away and nods. She looks at Cedric again, not quite wanting to leave him just yet. It's a feeling she gets every time they had to leave. She inhales deeply and tells herself that she will see him again soon. Sometimes, soon seems too far away when she's back in her Gryffindor Common Room. Harry's arm wraps itself around her shoulder and gives it a small squeeze of encouragement. She gives him a grateful look and they stand up together.

"Tonks and Professor Moody should be here anytime now."

"Harry?" The young wizard stops and looks at Hermione. "Could I just, have a few seconds alone with Cedric?" A few seconds pass without an answer, Hermione knows her best friend is contemplating the thought in his head. He finally nods and she beams in thanks. She hears him walk to the door and stops there to wait. Taking a deep breath, Hermione turns to Cedric again. She has never done it during the other times she was here, but the urge within her couldn't possibly be withheld much longer. Needing to know he's real and the situation is indeed a reality, Hermione dearly wishes to keep the moment with something physically memorable. Gently and carefully, she closes the distance between his face and hers, and presses her lips in a soft chaste kiss to Cedric's left cheek. "I miss you." She whispers before her next customary parting words leave the pale pink lips, "Keep safe for me."

* * *

_A/N: To Kessi, thanks for the review, and yes, I sincerely promise to have this completed :)_


	4. Delving in the memories

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

Delving in the memories

_-Your foolishness is a beautiful curve in this crazy game-_

"Granger!" Conversations around her stopped as curious, some suspicious, gazes were thrown in her direction. Down the corridor, Cedric Diggory waved his hand as he jogged over to her side. He grinned as soon as he reached her side, "Thought I saw you back there."

Hermione couldn't help but inwardly squirmed at the Hufflepuff's presence beside her. If it had been two days ago, she wouldn't have minded but the situation had changed the moment a small bit of parchment rushed out of the flames from the Goblet of Fire, with Harry's name on it. Something within her sank at the knowledge that the current situation would severe a friendship she had intended to keep.

"Granger?" Cedric prompted when he noticed her visibly taking a step back from him. "Is there something wrong?"

"I have somewhere to go." Hermione automatically answered, the words left her lips like a practiced excuse. She saw his eyebrow quirked in surprise and doubt right before she whirled around and hurriedly walk away. The fourth year felt his gaze on her, quite likely astonished with her abrupt change of behavior into one of hostility. Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts and stepped up the staircase, getting on her way to the Gryffindor Tower. The original destination in mind had been the library but she knew that going there meant an undesirable meeting with the sixth year Hufflepuff prefect.

The library had been their shared favorite place, where between the shelves, in a table by the far end, they quietly studied together – a habit that both had gotten accustomed to since the fourth day of the school year when they had bumped into one another in the castle's oldest room which held vast quantity of books alongside a calming solitude of an atmosphere. They seldom spoke but when they did, bursts of small laughter would escape as they shared bits and pieces of their life. It was a friendship that grew with the shared love of books. They were also amused to discover that their general perception of one another, stemmed completely from what they have heard from the student body, was exactly as expected; Hermione with her studious nature and intelligent mind of words and wit, and Cedric with his well-mannered amicability and thoughtful opinions. There were the exceptions of course, as they both found out. Hermione had a snarky sense of biting sarcasm and humor alongside her intellect while Cedric could be petulant and juvenile at will with his little pranks that came along with his quiet demeanor.

Throughout the initial weeks of September, she found herself immensely enjoying Cedric's company as much as she did for Harry's and Ron's, despite the latter's temperamental nature at times. She looked forward to their study sessions in the library, always evident with the smile on her face as she made her way through the library's large doors. Hermione knew he enjoyed their time together as well, with the grin that reflected in his steel grey eyes every time he reached their table and placed his books atop said furniture. Outside of the library, they hardly spoke although affable gazes were exchanged at the Great Hall, and acknowledging nods as they passed one another in between classes with their respective friends.

Hermione came through the portrait hole with a sharp exhale of her breath. She looked around the Common Room, glad to see it was almost deserted save for a few second years, huddled by the fireside and immersed in their game of Exploding Snap. The fifth year witch headed for the window and sat herself down after pulling out her textbooks from her bag. Sitting contentedly to herself, Hermione began to study. Ever so occasionally, her gaze would shift from the book in her hands to the view beyond the window for a few seconds of distraction. As it was such, in her third look within the span of two hours, she caught sight of a familiar figure on the grounds below the Gryffindor Tower. She turned away but immediately turned to the window again when her mind registered the face of the figure. An inaudible gasp escaped her as her hands dropped the book. "Diggory?"

Down below, with a broom in his hand, the Hufflepuff stood there with a smirk. He gestured to her and back to him before pointing to the broom. Understanding his ridiculous suggestion, she shook her head. He frowned and gestured again. She took her quill and quickly scribbled in two large alphabets – her negative answer to his question, before placing the parchment at the window. When she took it away, she was surprised to see Cedric was no longer there. A frown and a creased line appeared at her forehead as she wondered where he was.

Just as she pulled herself closer to the glass to look better, a sudden whizzing figure swept past the window before coming to a sudden halt. Cedric grinned mischievously. "Diggory!" She quietly chided. Her hand comforted her surprised heart. "That was certainly not funny." She mouthed with an annoyed narrow of her eyes. He only laughed in response before coming closer to the window and tapped on it. Hermione's eyes widened and quickly gestured at him to stop and to go away. She quickly turned around to the small group of second years and was relieved to see they had not seem to hear Cedric's tapping – at least until another loud tap was made by said sixth year. All eyes shot up and turned to Hermione's direction. She quickly turned to the window in attempt to cover the window with the curtains, lest they see the Hufflepuff on his broom, when she saw Cedric had disappeared from the window. Suspecting of nothing much, the second years continued with their game. Hermione breathed in relief and decisively pulled the curtains to a shut. She gathered her books hurriedly and ran up to the girls' dormitory.

"Whatever was he thinking? Flying within the grounds of Hogwarts without a legitimate reason? It's a whole detention's worth." She pushed a lock of hair behind her ears exasperatedly. An abrupt tap was heard at the window and Hermione immediately whirled around, knowing full well of the culprit. Boldly, she marched up to the window and pushed it open from its rickety hinges. "What are you trying to do? Get yourself into trouble and drag me along while you are at it?" She demanded.

Cedric grinned, "Well, that didn't came into my mind but now that you mentioned of it, sounds like a jolly good suggestion."

"You have got to stop this nonsense of yours."

"Granger, could I just have a word with you?" His tone was now solemn.

"What is it?" Hermione asked although inwardly, she knew what he was about to say.

"Could you stop avoiding me as if I'm the bearer of the Death Mark?" Hermione almost winced at his choice of words. "It's bloody well driving me up the wall with the cold shoulder I'm getting from you. Does this have to do with the Triwizard Cup?"

"Diggory – you know as well as I do that the whole school currently thinks that Harry is trying to earn bragging rights and trying to snatch away the supposedly rightful recognition from you as the Hogwarts' champion."

Cedric lifted an eyebrow, "What are you trying to say, Granger?"

"That by socializing yourself with me, the brains to Harry Potter," she rolled her eyes at her last words, "would allow everyone to think that I am trying to help Harry by getting any sort of information on the upcoming tasks from you and thus effectively pushing you further from the fair glory you deserve."

"I don't really bother for any of that sort of rubbish and I don't see why you should." Cedric answered with a small frown.

"Because I don't want to cause any unwarranted rumors for you. It's not fair. As much as it's not fair for Harry. He didn't want this and he didn't choose for this but it came to him all the same." Hermione said, almost exasperatedly. She was getting tired from hearing the whispers among the students of Harry's supposed cunning and conniving personality for getting his name into the Goblet. It irked her to know that the students were not aware that Harry had never thought of having himself thrown into such daunting and dangerous tasks all for the silly sake of eternal glory.

"Pardon me, Granger, but you have lost me there. Is this about me or is this about Potter?" An amused look graced the Hufflepuff's features.

"Both."

"Granger, I couldn't care less of what anyone thinks and I don't think neither should you nor Potter bother either. It will blow off soon enough and those juvenile and inane comments about Potter would cease."

"We wouldn't know that for sure." Hermione muttered darkly.

"Well, I for one will not allow this nonsense to ruin a good friendship between two people from different Houses, rivalry or not." Cedric commented with a shrug. "Now, are you ready to get on the broom?" Hermione stared at him as if the Hufflepuff Seeker had grown an extra nose. "Yes, Granger. I'm absolutely serious. Now come on."

"After everything that I've said, has none of it gotten into your comprehension?" Hermione shook her head. "I have heard that you were dim, but I didn't quite expect it would be that much obvious."

"Your humor is impeccable. I can barely keep myself from bursting out in laughter." Cedric deadpanned. A smile cracked at Hermione's lips. "We ought to be away from the library every once in a while, so come on – I promise I won't let you fall." Hermione bit her lower lip. "If you fall, I solemnly swear that I shall allow you to feed me to the Hippogriffs."

Hermione laughed, "I wouldn't make such promises if I were you." Despite herself, Hermione trustingly climbed over the window onto Cedric's broom. He moved back to allow her to sit in front as his two hands reached to help her. "This is certainly not an ideal manner to spend my free time."

"It's perfectly appropriate with such a lovely evening." Cedric replied. With a grin, he kicked off as Hermione almost shrieked in surprise. "Oh come on, Granger. Open your eyes and enjoy the view. It's lovely out here."

"Not when you are ten thousand feet in the air!"

"Actually, almost fifteen thousand."

"Diggory!"

"Trust me and open your eyes. The sight is amazing." Cedric whispered into the frightened witch's ear. Hermione unwillingly opened her eyes by a fraction before the caramel brown orbs gradually widened.

The evening September sky had its clouds in puffs, in haphazard shapes and directions as the clear sky colored brought out the white of the clouds. Cutting across the clouds and in the vast sky were the sun's evening rays – cleverly creating colors of blues, pinks, purples and oranges. Hermione smiled at the sight as she felt herself inhaling deeply.

"This is beautiful." She murmured. The Gryffindor witch turned her head around, "Thank you."

"Anytime, Granger." Cedric gave her one of his disarming smiles. They stayed up in the air for another few silent minutes – taking in the sight around them and marveling in it. "I reckon I should get your back to your dormitory, before someone wonders where you have disappeared to." At his words, Cedric gently led the broom, his arms around Hermione to keep her steady and his hands on the top of the broom, to gradually drop to a closer distance to the ground before flying straight for the opened window of Hermione's dormitory. Hermione peeked in and was glad to see no one was around before she carefully climbed in. "See you at the Great Hall." Cedric grinned.

Hermione watched him fly out of her sight, her head shook at the playfulness of the sixth year. Almost six weeks ago, she came to know that the outward appearance of the proper and well-mannered Cedric Diggory was in actuality, someone with an absolute delight and interest for mischief and excitement. It had been her birthday and although she hadn't quite expect anyone to notice, save for Harry and Ron, when Cedric came along to the library with a present in hand, she had been pleasantly surprised. Upon opening the box of silver and blue, a jack-in-the-box with a furry lion popped out with a jerk to greet her in the face. Naturally, Hermione had instinctively whipped out her wand at it, although a shriek would have been her first choice of reaction. Cedric merely chuckled and pointed out to her to inspect the stuffed lion with a closer look. She did so, not without a glare at the Hufflepuff beforehand, and saw that around its neck was a key hanging on a ribbon. Cedric then pushed a little ornament box to her. With the key, she had opened the box to discover an antique timepiece gently ticking away but its clock hands never moved from its current point. She looked at Cedric questioningly. "This is a special pocket watch. It's timed to the time of your birth time, and for every year on this very date, you can keep a memory of this special day within it. When you wish to relieve the memory, simply tap your wand on it and like a moving slideshow, it will appear in front of you and play."

Hermione turned to her bed and looked at the small stuffed lion, barely four and a half inches in height, sitting on her bedside table. She grinned before picking it up. It was out of her place with her books and quills, but served itself as a comfortable friendly face when she needed one. From the same bedside table, she slid out a drawer and picked up the chrome pocket watch that sat nestled in a soft maroon cloth. Her fingers touched its face, tracing around the round shape, before closing around it – feeling the cold metal contrasting against her warm hand. With a satisfied sigh, she placed it back in its place. Cedric had asked what was the memory she had chose to store within it but she kept her lips sealed, much to his dissatisfaction at not being provided an answer he had thought himself as rightfully deserving to.

"Hermione, Harry's looking for you downstairs. And so is Ron." Lavender's voice snapped Hermione out her thoughts. Gryffindor's bookworm turned to see Lavender and Parvati walking in to their shared dormitory.

"Are they speaking to each other?" Hermione jumped up from her bed.

Lavender shook her head with an apologetic look. "Sorry, they are downstairs in the Common Room together but standing far apart from one another."

Hermione exhaled sharply before she nodded resignedly. The inane dispute between both lads was getting on her nerves, and with each biting remark from Ron about Harry, simply sharpened them so. Pursing her lips together in a line, Hermione left her dormitory and headed down the stairs.

"Dinner together, Hermione?" Ron immediately asked. The witch in question shot an uneasy look at Harry's direction. "Oh come on, I'm starving and there's no one else to go down with anyway."

"Ron, Harry's just right here." Hermione pointed out.

Ron shrugged, "Didn't notice much."

"Will you stop being a git and just talk to each other already? Sort it out among yourselves; it's a silly misunderstanding, isn't it?"

"There's nothing to talk about." Ron's reply came out cold and distant. "Are you coming or not?"

Hermione switched her gaze from Ron to Harry. The raven haired wizard stood silent, as if in wait of her choice as well. She threw her hands up in the air, "You are both being absurd. I am going down to dinner myself." Before either lad could say a word, she was already out of the portrait hole and briskly walking to the stairs.

"Granger." She turned around to see Cedric walking up to her with a grin on his face, just as she reached the ground floor. The sight of the Hufflepuff somewhat ceased her bitterness at the childish argument between her two best friends. It felt ridiculous to be miserable around someone who was smiling at you as if you held the key to the world's most amazing secret. "Well, aren't you quite the temperamental being – I recall seeing you in the most benign mood less than half and hour ago and hear you are, stomping up a thundering storm." His amusement continued even as she frowned at his words. "Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you can make Ron see some sense and Harry to use his sense."

Cedric shot her a teasing smirk, "Boy problems, I see." Hermione said nothing but stopped when they were within a few feet away from the Great Hall entrance. "Something wrong?" The Hufflepuff asked as he peered at the witch beside him.

"We can't go in there together."

"Right – the utter nonsense that's the topic of every Hogwarts' students' conversation. I thought we agreed not to let it bother us, funny you should forget."

"You agreed on it yourself. I did not give my word of affirmation."

"I honestly do not give a bloody care, Granger." Cedric ran a hair through his dark hair. "Come along now and be sensible." His hand reached out for hers and clutched it close to his side without any intention of letting go. "We will go in together, and that's a finality." He said firmly.

"You are absolutely barmy."

Cedric laughed and simply tugged on her hand to prompt her to walk. When they reached the entrance of the Great Hall, students who sat near the great doors turned to them and like a domino effect, a gradual hush befell the hall. Hermione swallowed hard. Cedric's warm hand was still wrapped around hers, effectively hindering her from running and carefully assuring her of his presence by her side. He took a step forward, consequently tugging her along in his action. The students and professors in the hall simply looked at the newcomers, as if waiting for something more to happen. "Well, Granger, I suppose I'll see you at the library later." Cedric cheerfully said before letting go of her hand. "Enjoy your dinner." With that, he grinned and left her side to reach his friends at the Hufflepuff table, blatantly ignoring the murmurs and inquisitive looks of the students.

Hermione took a deep breath and made her way to the Gryffindor table. The whispers and murmurs arose with each step she took but she bravely soldiered on to her seat. Katie Bell moved aside as soon she reached the Gryffindor table. She looked up with slight hesitance. Katie, Alicia and Angelina smiled. Lee offered her mashed potatoes. George playfully winked at her. A breathe of relief escaped Hermione. She sat down and gratefully tucked in to her meal, helping herself to the plate of roast chicken as her fellow Gryffindors started up their conversations again as if nothing had happened. Hermione looked over at the Hufflepuff table and saw Cedric laughing with his friends. One of them, a boy with dark brown hair, seated beside Cedric, looked up and caught her gaze. He shot her an acknowledging smile before looking away to humorously mock another lad for something the latter had said. Hermione reached for the plate of sausages, a small curve on her lips - suddenly feeling grateful for Cedric's reckless yet bold behavior.

* * *

_-Those days that will pass us by are already a distant dream-_

"_Say, Granger." Cedric settled himself next to her under the large tree. "What do you think of when you think of the future?"_

"_Without You-Know-Who that's for sure." Hermione absentmindedly replied as she scribbled on her parchment. Her gaze lifted to her textbook before it averted itself back to her parchment again. Four days had passed since Cedric's bold act of declaring his friendship with her in front of the entire student body at the Great Hall. Although everyone had seemed to accept the friendship, there were still those who doubted the sincerity on her end and unfortunately, it also did nothing to change Harry's sudden status as the Hogwarts' outcast. "Why do you ask?"_

_Cedric shrugged as he pulled out his textbook from the bag. "Just curious. Aren't you at the age where ambitions and dreams take flight?" He reached for Hermione's spare quill and opened his leather notebook, one where he writes most of his notes for classes. "Just another two years and it's the end of my schooling years."_

"_Don't you want to go to a university?"_

"_Muggle ones, you mean?"_

"_There's awfully loads of good ones which," Hermione looked up with a raised eyebrow, "I'm sure you would be able to gain entrance into."_

"_I'm glad you think highly of my mental aptitude." Cedric grinned._

"_Well, you can't possibly pass of as being unintelligent." Hermione commented. She grinned, "Just rather slow at times." Cedric looked up with a frown. A self-satisfied smirk crossed her lips. He narrowed his eyes before shaking his head and continued with his homework. "Aren't you going to say anything to that?"_

"_I refuse to participate in a debate of my intelligence and its apparent lack of capability."_

"_Are you actually throwing a tantrum, Diggory?" Mirth colored Hermione's brown eyes._

"_Absolutely not." _

"_You are a horrible liar."She teased with a playful nudge at the older boy's shoulder. "Your eyebrows are twitching like you are about to refute my comment at any moment now."_

_Cedric sighed and looked up at her, giving in to the young witch, "You are awfully annoying when you are up for it, aren't you? Pestering a sixth year prefect who's trying to get his homework done all so that he could spend an entire day at Hogsmeade with you without any lingering thoughts about homework." _

"_Your gallantry thoughts are charming." _

"_Your sarcasm is piercing sharp." Cedric said pointedly as he closed his notebook and turned his complete attention to the Gryffindor. "So, Hogsmeade, tomorrow then?"_

_Hermione laughed. "Is that your odd manner of asking a girl out?"_

"_Well, does it work? Honestly, it's my first time asking a female equivalent of myself to go out with me."_

"_Diggory," Hermione bit her lower lip before hesitantly touching Cedric's hand for a brief second. The look in his eyes was expectant, curious, and a tad bit hopeful. "I'm sorry," the steel grey orbs falter in their gaze for a moment, "but I can't leave Harry by himself. He needs someone to be with him – I know it sounds ridiculous but I just can't possibly leave him to himself against the rabid and cruel words of the school."_

"_I guess that would be a no then." Cedric shot her a wane smile._

"_I'm really sorry, but thank you." Hermione earnestly said. She felt her heart twisting slightly at the dampen features of the boy before her. Hermione would have loved to say yes to his offer, although she wasn't sure if there was any real romantic connotation to the invite nevertheless, she had always enjoyed his company and spending her time in Hogsmeade with it would definitely be a fulfilling one indeed. Cedric had never mentioned of his interest in any girl in their school, much less for those from Beauxbatons, and she had never felt a need to ask. At this moment however, curiosity piqued her thoughts but she quickly brushed it off._

"_Well, maybe one day soon, we'll go together."_

_Hermione nodded, "One day." Cedric smiled and she carefully reciprocated. Hermione decidedly changed the subject when silence befell them for a minute, feeling slightly uneasy with the unexpected silence. "And what do you think of your future?" _

_Cedric looked up at the sky before shrugging with lazy grin, his gaze still on the clouds above them, "Loads of stuff. Quidditch possibly, or an Auror." He reached his hand up as if trying to grasp the clouds. "The possibilities are endless. I could join my dad at the Ministry, or start a bar like The Three Broomsticks, travel the world and write literature, or maybe just start at a Muggle university." He smiled to himself, "But I suppose the definite one would simply be," he paused and shifted his gaze to Hermione for a second before looking away again, "to be with the people I love."_

_Hermione felt a shot of warm jolt down her spine. Her fingers reached up and distractedly pushed her unruly dark locks away from her face, "I suppose that's what we would all want."_

"_Is that what you want as well?" Cedric's steel grey eyes looked at her imploringly._

_The fifth year nodded. "A future where I would be with all my loved ones; with calmness and safety in the air, and without a scent of fear and terror."_

"_With Harry and Ron as well?" Cedric teased good-naturedly._

"And you." Hermione murmurs as she stares out the window into the rainy day. Raindrops pelt hard against the cold glass, the loud patters disrupting the otherwise quiet dormitory. Everyone is out and about the castle; most of the Gryffindors are equally occupied with their own places to be or choosing to stay in the Common Room. Hermione however, chose to find a moment of solitude in her dormitory while Harry and Ron caught up with a game of chess. She sighs softly, wondering if she had any idea then of how close those dreams were and how far they would be now. Her plans for the Saturday had originally been a visit to Cedric but both boys had wanted to see if Hagrid had returned and with all the persuasion they could muster, they managed to avert her decision to join them instead. Hermione didn't quite regret the fact that she couldn't see Cedric today, but the jolts of memories every now and then are irrepressible no matter where she is and what she's doing. Like a habit, or clockwork, a memory would come fumbling from its corner in her mind, bringing itself to view and inadvertently tugging on her heartstring to cause a pang of nostalgic missing of some sort for the young witch.

The glass brings a cooling sensation to her forehead as she presses herself to the window, still staring out in the dark, rainy evening. She remembers how she had then thought that Cedric may never ask her again to Hogsmeade again after that fateful day. He really didn't – at least not until after the Yule Ball which he had attended with the pretty Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, and she with the Durmstrang student, Viktor Krum. Hermione's shoulders shake in a giggle at the reaction Cedric had given when the Durmstrang student had asked to speak to her while they were in the library.

It had been a cloudy day outside and instead of studying by the lake where Cedric had originally intended to; they chose to stay in the library. Krum's frequent appearance at the library, close to where they usually sat, had unnerved her by all means acceptable for the level-headed witch – the excited chatter of his fans was one thing, but to have them invading her quiet space was another matter altogether. Her annoyance increased when she realized that the Quidditch player frequently threw glances at her, sometimes to the point of blatantly staring until she looked up to meet his eyes. That day however, instead of just sitting at the table he usually sat away from the pair, Krum had walked right over to their table and approached her with a low yet confident call of her name – and Cedric had laughed outright at the butchered pronunciation of her given name. The Hufflepuff had quickly apologized and gave the excuse of a bug that flew into his nose out of nowhere thus causing the sudden loud snort to have escaped him – Hermione hadn't been amused by his answer though Krum hardly paid any attention to his words. When Krum asked to speak to her in private, Cedric had good-naturedly nodded and turned his attention away by walking to a bookshelf that was a few feet away. He only returned when Krum left the library, and when he found out of the latter's invite, Cedric had fell silent after a murmur of 'Congratulations'.

She couldn't understand his behavior then but she did found out the reason the Hufflepuff Seeker's sudden disquiet self after some time. That night, after the Yule Ball, as they sat in the kitchens of Hogwarts with a mug of hot chocolate each at 2 in the morning, he finally admitted of his original intention to ask her that very day at the library – if she, Hermione Granger, would go with him to the Yule Ball.

"_You had wanted to ask me?" Hermione repeated, almost incredulously._

"_I had planned on it and just as I was about to open my mouth, Krum came by and I decided it could wait." Cedric answered quietly. He stared at the dark brown liquid in his mug. "But waiting proved to be a wrong choice."_

"_You never told me." Her voice was soft, on the edge of despondency, and her gaze fell on a pumpkin on the table. "You could have told me so."_

"_That wouldn't do any good if I did." He turned to look at her in the eyes. A small frown fell on his lips. "You wouldn't have gone to Krum to turn him down after you had accepted it, would you?" Hermione shook her head apologetically. "And because I knew that, I decided not to say anything."_

"_But when you told me you had asked Cho Chang, you looked thrilled and excited – as if you had been planning to ask her all along."_

"_Only just so you wouldn't suspect anything. Cho's a good friend," Cedric shrugged, "and a great dancer too. But there isn't anything romantic between us."_

_Hermione noted the usage of present tense in his words. Her heart skipped a beat quicker and she could feel something within her surge with a relief. "I'm really sorry Diggory, if I knew you were to ask –" _

"_Would you have said yes?" Questioning steel grey eyes looked at her as the warm voice softly interjected._

_Her gaze had met Cedric's confidently although she felt her insides squirmed a little at the confrontation of an answer that seemed romantically connoted. "It would probably have been a yes." Her answer was clear and poised, certain and affirmative of the truth in her heart. A quiet flicker of contentment crossed the Hufflepuff's features as he looked down at his mug again, a cheerful curve of his lips spreading across. Hermione smiled. His gaze lifted again and she wondered what thoughts were running in his mind. She didn't have to wait long to find out though._

"_Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"_

Hermione stands up from her seat by the window and walks over to her bed. Pulling out a leather notebook from her bag, she traces her fingers against the soft and warm leather. Carefully, she unties the cords around it and flips the notebook open. Various writings, doodles and drawings greet her vision, alongside moving photographs, little bits and pieces of keepsakes – a mug placement mat from The Three Broomsticks, pressed Rowan flower, scrape of silver ribbon, a bit of jet black with a tint of gold feather, are amongst the little fragments that decorate the pages. She keeps turning the pages until she reaches the middle where it is blank. The following pages after followed just the same – empty without a single drop of ink.

Hermione breathes in deeply before shutting it with an audible thud. She brings herself out of the dormitory and down the stairs where Ron and Harry are with the other Gryffindors. Usually, the students would prefer to be out and about the castle but with Umbridge's obnoxiously ridiculous decrees, staying within the confines of the Gryffindor Tower serves to be an alternative much preferred by all. Harry looks up from the chess board when she descends, a small smile of greeting crosses his lips. She smiles briefly before heading out of the portrait hole.

"Hermione?" She stops as soon as she hears Harry's curious voice from behind her. "Where are you off to?"

"The library?"

The uncertainty in her voice is easily gauge by the bespectacled wizard. "I'll come along. Ron keeps winning that it just isn't fun anymore." Hermione nods wordlessly, thankful for the company. She knows the library is the last of places Harry would want to be yet he had offered to come along in understanding of her need of a friend. They walk to the library together in a comfortable silence, both feeling as if words aren't necessary – not because they didn't know what to say, but they know of what the other is thinking and somehow, it is enough that they simply understand. Harry notices the notebook in her hand but he doesn't ask about it. As they sat down at a small table by the History section of the library, Harry offhandedly picks a book off the shelf, randomly flipping through it. Hermione opens the notebook again and gazes through its pages, stopping at the middle once again.

"Shouldn't you fill them up?" Hermione looks up at Harry. He nods at the notebook in her hands. "There's much to write about and to tell of, wouldn't you think so?"

A soft tinkle of merriment escapes Hermione. "It's strange how you are now my voice of reason."

Harry shifts his gaze, slightly embarrassed, as his hand reaches up to his raven hair and runs through it carelessly. "I suppose you've rubbed off on me quite a bit." He looks at her again, a small smile on his face, "You could always tell what I am thinking and feeling, ever since our first year."

"Did you think it was strange?"

"A little bit." Harry admits. "But in our second year, when you were petrified, I realize that I miss that – having you to be my voice of reason and smoothing out my befuddled thoughts." He reaches for her hand and gives it a soft squeeze. "You are an amazing person 'Mione. Don't let yourself to think otherwise."

"I just wish I was a better voice of reason for him." She softly says, gazing at the notebook again.

"Hermione, the Final Task was – well, it was inevitable. What happened in there back then wasn't your fault."

"It was." An eyebrow shot up in question. Hermione turns to Harry. "The day before the Final Task, we had an argument. I told him that it was foolish of him to place his name in the goblet in the first place. Your name was placed in there without your own will but his was a choice he chosen himself and I suppose for that one moment, I was angry at his absurdly imprudent decision. I was honestly terrified to know that both you and him were about to descend on such a dangerous task."

"That still doesn't bring it at your fault."

"I told him I didn't think he would make it out." Her words softly tumble out. Hermione gazes at Harry with a remorseful look. "It was horrid of me to say such a thing and before I could take back my words, he had stormed off."

Harry couldn't seem to find the appropriate words to say so he didn't. He simply stands there for a moment of thought and within a short stride, brings himself to Hermione's side. Her arms instinctively wraps around him to seek a hug in his arms. He feels her shoulders shaking and hears a muffled murmur.

"I haven't got any right to fill that notebook. Not anymore, especially since I am the reason to cause the emptiness in the first place."

The Gryffindor wizard pulls his best friend away from him to look at her in the eye, "You will be able to fill it soon. Hang on to that thought."

The leather notebook lies on its spine, its pages opened on a blank page on the wooden table. There are pages to fill yet Hermione can't bring herself to do so. Not without the owner of the notebook.


	5. While wishing & hoping on a dream

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling. The lovely quote, 'When a person acts, setting aside all personal pride and public opinion – there, you will always be sure to find, something precious and immeasurable' is from Odagiri Hotaru.

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

While wishing & hoping on a dream

_-The proof of living that you gave me-_

Hermione startles when she feels a sudden warmth on the back of her hand. The feather light feeling on her skin jolts her senses and she swiftly looks away from her book. Her gaze falls on Cedric. His breathing is calm and steady with his eyes still closed. She frowns for a second as she gazes around again. Curiously, she shifts her hand and brings it to close to her, wondering if the feeling of warm fingertips touching her had been an imagination of her mind. She looks over at Cedric again, a thin line forming at her lips.

"Cedric?" Her voice falls into a soft, almost hesitant, whisper. She reaches out to him with much trepidation that she could see her fingers visibly shaking as they make their way to the Hufflepuff's shoulder. Her hand carefully places itself on the soft fabric of the cloth, restricting the touch between her skin and his. "I must have imagined it." She murmurs to herself.

Ron had excused himself to the men's room while their guardian for the day, Professor Remus, had stepped out of the room when he saw a familiar face walked past, Arabella Figg – a Squib who lived near Harry and had looked out for him throughout the years, and fell into a conversation with the elderly lady.

"Honestly, I think I dream about it so much that I probably brought it into life with the silly imagination of mine." Hermione laughs nervously to herself. "Ron would have thought I've gone over my head." She smiles and shrugs. The book on her lap falls to the linoleum floor with a soft thud. As she bends over to pick the book up, her fingers unconsciously trails down Cedric's arm and stops at his fingers. Just as her other hand reach for the book by the corner of its spine, she feels a movement within her intertwined fingers with Cedric's. Hermione quickly pulls herself up, book forgotten entirely, and stares at their entangled fingers. Seconds pass in silence as she holds her breath. The Gryffindor inhales sharply when Cedric's index finger shifts by a tiny fraction of a jerk.

She slowly averts her gaze to his sleeping face. For the first time in all their visits, Hermione notices the gentle curve at the edge of his lips, like a soft benign smile.

"Hermione?" She jerks in surprise for the second time in the day. Ron walks in with a confused look. "Are you alright?"

The fifth year witch finds herself at loss for words. She didn't know if what she had just seen was indeed real or otherwise. It is hard to differentiate a dream from reality, especially when the dream is something you had been hoping fervently to turn into a reality. The line blurs when you actually see your dream coming to life, the black and white distinction between the two turns into a hazy grey and you wonder if you should place a doubt or a hope in the sudden realization.

"Hermione?" Ron prompts again. His voice is now insinuated with worry.

"His–" Hermione swallows hard, "his fingers moved." Ron's worry turns into uncertainty. "I saw it myself, Ron."

"We should get Remus." Ron chokes out. Hermione nods. The redhead turns around and quickly leaves to locate their former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor before returning with the latter within seconds.

"Are you sure you saw his fingers moved, Hermione?" Remus gently, yet urgently, asked. Hermione nods again. "Did you see it?" He turns to Ron but the second youngest Weasley shakes his head in response.

"Professor, please." Hermione says with earnest eyes and knitted eyebrows, "I know what I saw and it's not just an imagination."

Remus nods, "I am not doubting your words, Hermione. It would be good if we have a second confirmation as well." Remus smiles reassuringly. "We'll get the Healers in to see him."

Within short minutes, the Healers are in the room, fussing over Cedric and talking animatedly in medical jargons that neither Hermione nor Ron could possibly understand. Remus however, seem to understand them well enough as he converses with them back and forth with an exchange of his opinions and theirs. He finally turns to an anxious Hermione with a smile, "We'll have the Diggorys over and let them know of the news. It seems that Cedric will be waking up soon at the rate he's healing."

"Diggory's fine?" Ron repeats.

"Yes, Ron. He's fine as any seventeen year-old should."

"Almost eighteen." Hermione quietly says. Cedric's birthday is due within the few short days, a few days after her own in fact.

Remus smiles and nods, "Well, he would be celebrating his eighteenth birthday soon enough." The former professor looks at the watch on his wrist. "I'm sorry but I'm afraid we'll have to leave now." He looks at Hermione apologetically, "We could come back tomorrow, if you'd like."

"No, thank you." Her answer surprises both Ron and Remus. "I'm sure his parents would want to be with him alone." Ron places a comforting hand on Hermione's shoulder, she smiles a quiet thanks.

When they reach Hogwarts, specifically Professor McGonagall's office, Hermione quietly steps out of the fireplace, deep in her own thoughts. Ron quickly grabs their extra homework with a quick word of information on Cedric's condition to the intrigued Transfiguration professor before hurrying after his friend. "Hermione, are you really alright with not being there when he wakes up?" He carefully asks while eyeing the dark haired witch. She nods wordlessly. He gives the password to the Fat Lady and as they walk in to the Common Room, Harry greets them with a cheerful wave but his hand stops when he sees the dazed look on Hermione's face. Ron, from behind her, shoots Harry a worried frown with a brief nod of his head at Hermione. "Well, I suppose I ought to get started on the homework." He quickly rushes up the stairs to the boys' dormitory, leaving Hermione to Harry. The latter shakes his head, half in amusement – knowing full well that Ron would never start on any homework unless it's due the next day, and the other half in disgruntlement at Ron's escapism tendencies when it comes to Hermione and her sullen moments.

"How's Cedric?" Harry feebly attempts to break through Hermione's thoughts. He tugs at the cuff of her hooded jumper's sleeve to steer her towards the large two-seater.

"He'll be waking up soon."

"That's brilliant news."

"It is."

"You don't sound like it though." Harry peers at her. "There's something bothering you, isn't there?"

"What do I say to him when he wakes up? Our last moment together was a bitter and silly argument." Hermione confesses as she tugs at a loose thread from a large cushion beside her.

Harry shrugs, "You could always apologize." She looks up at him in skeptic. "Or you could pretend it never happened. Hermione, he's not going to hold that against you. It's almost three months ago and that's almost a quarter of a year."

"I suppose."

"What's that?" Hermione looks up to see Harry curiously pointing at a bit of parchment sticking out from the notebook she had been carrying. Hermione frowns as she recalls there had been nothing in the notebook that resembles a loose sheet of parchment. She quickly unties the cord around the leather and flips over to its back cover. The bit of parchment seem to be inside a small slit of the leather cover, revealing to be a hidden pocket, and she slowly pulls it out and a folded parchment reveals itself to her with Cedric's handwriting.

"It's a letter from Cedric." Her voice comes out in whoosh of breath. "I've never known anything about this pocket here. He must have slipped it in without telling me." Her fingers tremble lightly as her eyes quickly scan the contents of the short letter, consisting of only two paragraphs with almost six sentences each.

Harry patiently waits for her to finish. He looks away in respect of her privacy but turns around again when he hears a quiet sob escaping from her direction."'Mione?" He asks worriedly. A tears falls and rolls onto her cheek. Harry instinctively slides himself closer to her. Her head falls onto his shoulder. He doesn't peek at the letter, knowing full well she'll tell him of its contents when she's ready to.

"He forgives me." She murmurs.

"For the argument you had?"

"Yes." She sniffles. "When a person acts, setting aside all personal pride and public opinion – there, you will always be sure to find, something precious and immeasurable." She lifts her head and looks at Harry. "That's what he said in his letter."

"What does that mean?"

"That he understands my irrationality of a behavior on that very day wasn't out of spite." She stares at the letter again as something clicks in her mind. A particular memory from her fourth year, on an evening in Hogwarts when she walked in the Great Hall with Cedric, carelessly paints itself all over her thoughts. "Setting aside all personal pride and public opinion –" she murmurs. The realization falls like the pieces of a puzzle fitting together to bring the completed image. A gasp escapes her.

Cedric Diggory hadn't quite meant it was merely a friendship that he had wanted to keep and protect, but something that ran deeper than just the platonic feeling of two beings. It was something that he had realize much sooner than she did but never once mentioned it to her until much later. His reasons of boldly defying the student body despite the spiteful remarks, silly rumors, insufferable stories, and possible outcast of his position as the Hogwarts' Golden Boy, wasn't just to protect a friendship, but to protect someone who possibly meant the world to him as he had determinedly concluded. And that someone – was Hermione Granger.

* * *

_-I dream-_

Hermione quietly reveled in the warmth of another's hand. The velvety, soft feeling seeped into her veins to bring a rush of her blood to her heart as it skipped beats quicker; and to her cheeks where it faintly colored her features. She had held her parents', her childhood neighbor's, her maternal grandparents', her paternal grandfather's, her favorite cousin's, her kindergarten teacher's, Ron's, Ginny's, Viktor's and even Harry's hand – yet nothing came as close as the hand that she was holding onto at that very moment. The feeling was overwhelming her very being, sweeping her in a whirlwind of emotions – the good ones. She found herself seeking more of that warmth. It was strange yet fascinating for her.

Cedric's gaze shifted to her and she saw the flash of embarrassment fleeting in his steel grey orbs before he quickly looked away. The concept of who they were and what they were to each other was a fact they were both trying much to grasp seeing as they were each other's first. Contrary to the perception of many, the sixth year Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain hadn't quite find himself in an encounter where he had to sought hard for the affections of the opposite gender as he tried making sense of his own feelings as well. He had always been amicable to everyone, regardless, and he had never seen the need to attach himself romantically to a person because the feeling of affection for someone other than family and platonic was foreign to him. He didn't quite understand the feeling of a lover's bitter jealousy, or a melancholic unrequited love, or even the wave of a gentle sentiment.

Likewise, the Gryffindor witch found herself at loss with something she could not find a feasible, steadfast fact for in a book. Books fascinated her, history amazed her, classical music thrilled her, photography delighted her, and there wasn't a need for anything, or anyone else, in her sensible mind. Like a foreign language, or even more complicated than that, she found herself searching for the basics and knowing there was a whole lot more she could only learn with time, exposure and experience. It pleased her however to know that the learning process was something she wouldn't be doing alone, but with him. And that she was to learn it with him – somehow, she couldn't imagine anyone else by her side to learn the many facets of the feeling and experience the indescribable symphony the journey would make.

Just as the new year rolled about, in the Owlery when they should have been in the Great Hall for dinner, Cedric had politely asked if he could have a word with her. She had found it odd as they were already engaged in a conversation – on how far can an owl travel and back without a meal, but she still nodded in good humor. He then leaned closer to her, his breath tickling her face, and softly whispered, "I think I may have fallen for you, Granger."

Almost a week had passed since the day and the word has gradually spread itself around Hogwarts in hushed whispers, passed notes, curious chatters if it was indeed true – Cedric Diggory was going out with Hermione Granger. No one knew for sure as both kept tight-lipped with a smile and their close friends equally shied away from the subject. Harry and Ron were supportive and happy for her, although the latter had been very dubious but eventually relented when Harry mentioned that it wasn't worth spoiling years of friendship over a fickle subject of affections.

"Reckon dinner should be ready soon?" Cedric spoke up.

"I suppose, it is almost time for dinner." Hermione gazed at the beckoning dark sky. Winter was far from over and the days were still short.

"Are you really alright with this?" She turned to him with a befuddled look. "Going out with me." Cedric explained with a bashful smile. "To be honest, I feel as if I'm on a rollercoaster that's going around in high loops making me feel rather heady with giddiness."

"Is that a good feeling?"

"I've always loved the rollercoaster." Cedric grinned.

Hermione laughed. "Well, that ingeniously answers it."

"Granger, I doubt this is something I ought to get nauseous of." He nudged her playfully by the shoulder. "Unless, you think it's something you are getting revolted with. Are you?"

"Should I?" The mock horror on the Hufflepuff's face made her laugh again. "I suppose I could still withstand it, I've got a strong stomach to keep it down."

Mirth twinkled in Cedric's eyes as his shoulders shook at her words. "Your wit amazes me."

"Don't let me dazzle you blind."

Cedric laughed again. His hand squeezed hers in affection. "I'm pretty definite that I would like to be on this rollercoaster with you for a very, very long time."

"Every ride has an end." Hermione answered matter-of-factly.

"Then we can get down together, with our hands still clasped and hearts still connected in the same symphony." His voice had turned boyishly hopeful.

Hermione smiled, "Perhaps." She looked down at their intertwined fingers. "It would be nice." She softly admitted before looking up at Cedric again. They were at the Owlery as the library had suddenly seemed to be frequently and consistently invaded by prowling girls who were eager to catch glimpse of the rumored pair.

Ironically, the library – a once quiet place of the school, had been deafening enough, and rather much irritating to the pair, just before the Yule Ball was due to be held . Zealous female students eager to catch sight of either one of the male Triwizard Champions and to be within their presence, in hopes of being asked to the grand dance, made their presence a constant prominence. Cedric was often there to study, Viktor to sit and stare, and Harry – well, to research on his tasks and whenever Hermione pressed him into looking up references for homework on his own. Hermione and Cedric's favorite table by a corner end of the library had been safe for the first few weeks after the names were announced from the goblet, but they soon had to give it up when Krum chose to sit nearby and the hordes of girls, and some boys, multiplied. They had withstand it then, despite Hermione's irritated mutters of how she would have herself flung into the Great Lake and Cedric's frequent contemplation to hit himself in the hit with the thickest book he could lay his hands on, but the incessant suspicious stares and demanding gazes had became too uncomfortable for either one to even concentrate in their homework.

Ever since the new term began, they chose to alternate their studying time between the library, the Owlery and sometimes, a quiet corridor by Dumbledore's office. The Hogwarts' Headmaster had been amused to see them there with their textbooks and parchments all over the stone floor but said nothing and proceeded on his way.

"Do you think they will figure out our hiding place?" Cedric asked amusedly.

"Unless someone gives it away, I'm positive we should be just fine – though Merlin knows how persistent they can be." Hermione shook her head. "If need comes to be, we'll just have to find a new place to study and to be away from those fans of yours. Honestly, you'd think you are some popular musician of some sort at the rate they are stalking you."

Cedric grimaced, "I can't sing to save my life."

"At least I know now to never let you sing anywhere within ten feet of me, lest my eardrums turn bloody." She smirked.

"I will sing twenty feet away from you." The young wizard dully replied.

"Maybe thirty – ought to be safe than sorry."

"Noted."

Hermione's laughter filled the cold evening air. She gently tugged at Cedric's hand, motioning him to get up. "We should be going down soon. I don't want Ron finishing my share of dinner."

"You could have mine." Cedric cheerfully offered. His hand reached out to brush the dirt at her school robe before dusting off his own.

"And that would allow the whole school, and our visitors, to discover that there is indeed something much more physical and affectionate between us two."

"When you put it that way, it doesn't sound awful to have it out in the open." The mischievous reply earned a frown in response. "Whenever you are ready to declare your undying love for me, I'll be ready in position to hear it."

"I'll be ready to fling myself off here then." Hermione answered flatly.

"Would you like me to follow after?" Cedric teased. He dropped Hermione's hand to reach for their bags. Swinging his bag onto his shoulder, he handed the fourth year hers before gathering their books together firmly in his hold.

"And resolutely confirming your undying love for me?" Hermione smirked, "By all means, please do."

Cedric grinned as he took her hand in his again. The warmth of his touch immediately enveloped Hermione with a pleasing delight. He noted the distinctive curve of her lips and inwardly danced a jig at the apparent effect he seemed to have on her. Likewise, Hermione drew various content feelings within him that the seventeen year old once wondered if it had been normal and if he had been the only one to feel in that certain manner.

"I'm surprise Rita Skeeter has yet to write an article on us." Hermione quietly said as they walked out of the Owlery together. The Daily Prophet reporter had been nothing but a constant nuisance with her outrageous and twisted notion of reporting the supposed truth. Every since the Triwizard Cup began, Rita's stories had spurned with facts that Hermione never knew could be considered as newsworthy and the ethicality of journalism had evaded her understanding entirely. She had half expected in anxiousness that the news of her blossoming friendship with Cedric would have made it in the wizarding world's newspaper – if not the frontpage headline, then at least a second page-worthy headline with bolded fonts. And when it didn't, not even with a week's worth – Hermione's nerves weren't any less calm.

"She's got awful loads to write on every single bit of nonsense that's going on that we are possibly very much trivial to her." Cedric answered with a shake of his head. "Such as the story of your attendance at the Yule Ball with Krum." A coltish smile appeared, "Harry must be awfully devastated."

"He was ready to hex Krum into oblivion."

"I bet a galleon he was indeed." Cedric playfully kept up with the teasing.

"But I suppose he wasn't as distraught as someone who was rather obvious with his forlorn self."

"You mean Longbottom?"

"I had meant you." Hermione laughed, "Neville had been more than pleased to be Ginny's date."

Cedric's eyes shone in mirth as he remembered the night. He had witnessed Hermione's verbal dispute with Ron and her running up the staircase to seek refuge for her tears. Cedric's first instinct had been to run after her but he turned to Cho instead and politely asked if he could excuse himself. The Ravenclaw smiled in understanding before Cedric gratefully hurried after the forth year witch. When he reached the sobbing witch, huddled by the corner of a corridor by a stone statue, he had been at loss for words and merely patted her on the arm in hopes to calm her. When she finally looked up a few minutes later, Cedric's face was ashen and rather miserable to have seen her crying with such vengeance and he had been helpless to do anything, that – and the fact that should he had asked her first, perhaps he could have prevented and protected her from the hurtful words. "I'm really sorry, Granger."

She had been confused with his words but before she could ask of the reasoning to his apology, he had asked if she would like to dance with him. Hermione shot him an astonished look as he continued with a request if she would like to go down to the lake, to the Rowan tree where they occasionally studied under. Hermione curiously nodded and when the clock struck one, she silently crept out the Gryffindor Common Room and within the shadows of the castle, sneaked out onto the Hogwarts ground to find Cedric waiting under the particular tree.

He had held his hand out with a warm smile and she took it with a reciprocating grin of her own. Under the Rowan tree, in the dark of the night with only the winter stars looking over them, the pair danced in a simple manner where they laughed amidst the twirls, turns, steps and dips. Half an hour passed before they fell to the ground, breathless from laughing and dancing, not caring the slightest bit that their best dress robes were stained by the wet grasses.

Tired but still very much in high sprits, Cedric had pulled her up by both hands and allowed her to climb on his back for a ride to the kitchens of Hogwarts. She had been shaking with mirth as she clung onto his back, her arms wrapped around his neck as he carefully, and as quietly as possible, made his way into the castle. The memory, just barely two weeks old was still fresh like a yesterday's moment for the both of them.

Cedric grinned, "You looked beautiful that night."

"You're only saying that because my teeth had been shrunk, my messy hair was tamed, and I was wearing something other than the usual school uniform."

"You look pretty no matter your physical features and the clothes you have on."

"Honestly?" Her eyebrow was raised.

"I didn't fell in love with your looks if you must know." Cedric answered with a wry smile. He stopped in his steps and leaned close to place a soft, chaste kiss on the crown of Hermione's dark hair. "It was your personality that caught my fancy and utter fascination."

Hermione almost fidgeted nervously at his words but willed herself to remain calm as she took steady breaths. "Thank you." Her words were earnest and sincere. She looked up at him with a smile.

"Hermione?"

At the call of her name, within such close proximity to her ear, Hermione stirs as her eyes struggle to open. She blinks once and rubs the sleep from her eyes before taking in her surroundings. Harry gazes at her questioningly from beside her. "You fell asleep in the Owlery." He explains.

Hermione stretches herself and notices the school robe around her, Harry's, not hers. She gives Harry a smile of thanks. "I supposed I didn't realize it, my eyes were tired and I thought I could give them rest for a bit."

"It's cold here. You should head down to the Common Room."

"What are you doing up here?"

"Hedwig." He answers simply. "Do you want to head down together? Or do you need some time alone?"

"Would you stay here with me for a little while?" She softly asks. Harry nods wordlessly and sits himself next to her. "I had a dream." Hermione suddenly says. "It's odd really."

"What's odd about it?" He doesn't need to ask what her dream was or who was in it, he already knows. Like how Hermione could read him like the back of her hand, Harry seem to be getting into the same wavelength with easy anticipations of her questions and answers, her thoughts and sometimes, her feelings.

"It felt real. As if it had just happened and time continues on as it is without the months of gap we have now." She shakes her head. "I could almost feel the warmth of his hand around mine like a snug glove." She takes her hand out and Harry obligingly touches it. "See Harry, it isn't cold like it should've been for someone who's slept out here in the Owlery without her school robe."

"That is odd." Harry observes. He looks around them and notes the cold draft in the air. "Your hands would have been cold with this temperature."

"I am amazed myself." Hermione admits as she stares at her hand. "It feels as if he had been here, holding my hand."

Over at St. Mungo's, Remus and Tonks smile as they watch Mrs. Diggory hugs her son with a beaming grin despite the tears running down her cheeks. Amos Diggory smiles wordlessly by the corner of the room, at loss for any words to describe of his relief, euphoric joy and gratefulness.

"Your hands are warm, love. It feels as if you've been up and running outside." Mrs. Diggory says with a smile as she takes her son's hands in hers and brings it to her cheeks lovingly.

"It's odd but I feel as if someone was holding my hand and keeping it warm." Cedric Diggory slowly says as he thinks hard. "Someone – it was a girl, I believe."

"Hermione." Tonks quips helpfully with a grin.

A thoughtful look crosses the seventeen year old's good looking features. His eyes slowly gain in their steel grey color as the memories comes flashing through in his mind. A girl with dark hair that reach slightly below her shoulders, a smile that brightens her face almost easily and intelligent brown orbs. "Hermione Granger." The name escapes his lips in a perceptible note of affection.


	6. Only to tumble helplessly

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling.

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

Only to tumble helplessly

_-Soon a downpour will be coming-_

"Hermione, will you stop pacing around? You are going to make a hole in the floor if you keep doing that." Ron gripes as he eyes the frantically pacing witch. Said witch immediately looks up at him with a sharp look.

"Or she could blast you through the floor if you say anymore." Ginny murmurs, audible enough for Harry and Ron to catch on. Harry quietly chuckles. "Hermione," Ginny gently begins, "you should sit down. I'm sure he'll be alright."

"I know." Hermione draws her lips to a thin line. Any minute now, Cedric Diggory is supposed to arrive in Hogwarts to complete his final school year. The students of Hogwarts were informed of Cedric's recovery that very morning itself over breakfast and as soon as the news left Dumbledore's lips, the entire Great Hall erupted in cheers and shouts. Hermione had been mobbed by her fellow Gryffindors in a crushing hug of congratulatory happiness, amidst the happy ruckus around them. "I'm just –" her words fell short as if searching for the perfect adjective to describe the twisting knot within her that seem to fasten and loosen itself by the second.

"Cedric!"

The shout of the name from a Hufflepuff boy, a seventh year with dark chestnut brown hair, made Hermione look up with a jerk. Sure enough, Cedric Diggory, in his school robe of Hufflepuff colors, smiles as he stands by the great doors of the Hogwarts entrance. "You are back, you insufferable prat!" Cedric laughs as the Hufflepuff boy walks over to him in big strides with a smirk on his face. The boy, Haden Whitlock, opens his arms wide for a dramatic hug and Cedric gratefully accepts it.

"It's good to know you are still as vocally abusive as ever."

"None of the other lads take my verbal beatings as good as you do." Haden answers cheerfully. As he pulls back, their fellow housemates rush over to give their Quidditch Captain and Seeker crushing hugs and words of welcome back. Following their lead, Fred, George and Lee hurries over to the group with hollers of hello at the laughing Hufflepuff who waves at them in response from the middle of the crowd that had him trapped. Students from other houses, with the exception of Slytherin, and in particular those who are in the Quiddtich team, merrily joins in the welcome wishes – creating an absolute pandemonium of cheers and applause and shouts.

"Hermione Granger!" Fred shouts over the crowd. "Whatever are you doing there?"

"Don't be shy now." George adds with a wink as he swings his arm around Cedric's shoulder. Cedric stretches his neck to look over the heads of the zealous crowd to shift his attention to the dark haired witch, standing with her friends at a short distance away.

"Hermione, go to him." Ginny prompts. Neville nods from beside her.

"There are too many people."

"And you're letting that stop you?" Ron splutters. He shakes his head and gives a push at Hermione's arm. "Go to him."

"You ought to talk to Diggory." Luna Lovegood comments with a small knowing smile.

Hermione looks over at Harry and the green eyed wizard nods encouragingly. She looks at Cedric again, his gaze still on her, seeming not to notice anything or anyone else except her. The steel grey orbs did not waver, even as the horde of students around him push and tug with much merriment and celebration. She takes a step forward and it seem to her as if Cedric did the same.

The great bell signaling the end of lunch chimes in the air. "Alright everyone, off you go to you classes before each and every one of you ends up with a detention for your tardiness." Professor McGonagall says from the top of the marble staircase. She looks at Cedric with a quick smile, "Welcome back, Mr. Diggory."

"Professor McGonagall." Cedric smiles in acknowledgment.

"Professor Sprout is on her way from the greenhouse to see you in a moment. I'm sure she'll be able to get you settled with your classes."

"Thank you, professor."

Professor McGonagall nods curtly as the smile on her face deepens before it turns into a firm line, "For Merlin's sake all of you, he'll be around for the rest of the school year, now hurry up to your classes." She firmly says to the general student body.

Everyone, except for Hermione, gives their final pats of congratulatory and well wishes to Cedric before quickly hurrying off to their class – in particular those who are due for Professor Snape and Umbridge's classes. Harry gives Hermione's hand a reassuring pat before he waves at Cedric and goes off with Ron and Neville. Ginny shoots her one last encouraging smile and hurries away with her friends. Luna touches her arm briefly with a fleeting smile on her lips before leaving for her class. Feeling befuddled and speechless, Hermione stands in her place, looking at Cedric who is a few meters away from her.

"Hello." Cedric says, almost bashfully. His lips quirk in a small, uncertain smile.

"Are you feeling better?" The words stumble out of Hermione in a sudden wheeze of breath. She wonders wherever her composed and level-headed self had run off to.

"Quite. I reckon there's a few things I need to adjust myself to again though."

"You'll be alright."

"Thank you."

An awkward silence descends on them. Hermione swallows hard as the gnawing feeling within her grows. She has never an awkward silence with Cedric before – not even once. The discomfited feeling is disconcerting to her nerves. Her emotions reel in surprise. "I suppose I should be off to my class now."

"You should."

His answer comes of almost inaudible yet Cedric's gaze remains on her, a look she couldn't quite discern, but she forces herself to look away. She feels his gaze searching her. "Well, I'll see you around then." Hermione gives a limp wave of her hand and quickly walks away. Her heart is at a rapid pace and the knot within her tightens. She feels a lump in her throat and her vision blurring. Hermione blinks once and takes a deep breath. As soon as she reaches the classroom for Charms, Hermione takes another deep breath and squashes the nagging feeling within her, although her effort was done in vain, before reaching for the door.

Harry and Ron look at her with a concern gaze as she walks in and takes the empty seat beside Neville. She avoids their gaze and immediately opens her textbook, concentrating hard on the swirls of words before her. Even as they move on to the next class, Hermione carefully avoids their gaze. She chooses to sit at the front row by herself as Harry and Ron slides into the next row behind her. Harry reaches out to get Hermione's attention by patting her shoulder but before he could ask anything, Professor McGonagall walks in and begins the class.

"Hermione." Harry finally calls out with a tone of desperation in his voice, when the bell chimes loudly to signal the end of classes and everyone begins to pack their belongings in hurry. He stops Hermione from leaving with a firm grasp of her wrist. He gives her a sharp look that somewhat demands her to tell him the truth that is harboring within her – the look that she gives him when she knows he is hiding something. Naturally, Harry picked up that look.

Ron sighs to himself, wondering if his sanity could withstand the apparent temperamental nature of his two best friends – Harry with his conflicting thoughts ever since the graveyard incident, and Hermione with her troubled heart ever since the same graveyard incident. In a way, Ron feels left out but he doesn't hold it against them, understanding much earlier that Harry and Hermione are inevitably connected within every situation, as much as their thoughts and emotions are. She understands Harry just as much Harry could read her. Many had speculated on Harry and Hermione's real relationship but Ron knows that it was purely platonic, but it goes beyond just a mere friendship to an inseparable camaraderie between two souls who seem to fit one another like a clicking piece of a clasp and its hook. He had been amazed that Cedric seem to perceptively and unobjectionably accept the fact as well.

Then again, Cedric and Hermione had a bond that comes in equal status, if not more, and that would easily soften any sense of competition Cedric could possibly feel from Harry's obviously close friendship with Hermione. Ron, as spaced out as he may seem, does take much notice of those who are close to him – save for the fact that he had absently missed out last year on the fact that Hermione is indeed a young woman in her own right which of course, led to a bitter disgruntlement between the two. Ron noted how, like a searching penguin finds its one mate for life – a fact he had randomly found in second year while absently flipping through books as Hermione searched for the Polyjuice Potion's ingredients and terms, though Hermione had also refuted the fact in saying that it varies from one penguin kind to another and no such animal would want to end its gene pool should their other half passed away as it wasn't befitting for the ecosystem – Cedric and Hermione seem to agreeably fit within the context. Neither Cedric nor Hermione had been attached or emotionally attracted to anyone before the other, and when they found each other – it seemed as if they fell into a completely comfortable pace, sharing something they could only find in one another. Like a penguin that waited its life for that one mate, simply not seeking for any other that happen to came along.

Cedric's hand instinctively sought hers when they are next to each other. Hermione's movements gravitated around Cedric when the Hufflepuff was within close proximity of her. His gaze on her was always affectionate and it seemed to flicker with content and rapture. Her voice, although it was as always – confident, purposeful and poised, harbored with a gentleness that seemed to only be reserved for Cedric. Of course Ron hadn't been quite as observant to note with such details, just skimming the surface, but from Lavender, Parvati, Ginny and even Katie, Alicia and Angelina of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, he had gathered enough descriptions to fit his less perceptive examination of the pair. As such – he easily deducted the deep attachment between the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and his bookworm friend.

His thoughts come to a halt when Harry's voice calls out Hermione's name again. He looks over at Hermione. "Come on 'Mione." He urges, wishing the witch would just tell whatever it is that's on her mind so they could all go down for dinner – soon. Hermione's eyebrows twitch and Ron knows his motive has been revealed. He simply smiles bashfully.

She sighs and nods her head. "I have a feeling that things are different now."

"Different?" Ron repeats, intrigued.

"He's not –" she pauses and her nose wrinkles in thought, "He doesn't feel like he's the same Cedric Diggory from before. There's something off about him."

"Did the both of you spoke to each other?" Harry asks.

"Briefly." She mutters. Hermione looks up at Harry with weary eyes, "It was polite and awkward to say the least."

Ron turns to Harry with a puzzled look as the latter gives him an identical look. They both know that from Hermione's words, it certainly didn't felt right at all. Even to someone with a lack of experience in the matters of the heart, to feel an awkward silence with someone whom you have been emotionally and physically attached to for almost half a year, the context fell within the realm of strange.

"Maybe he had been overwhelmed to see you." Harry suggests.

"Or possibly just too hazy in the head to make a coherent sentence." Ron adds. Harry lifts an eyebrow. "Right, sorry. That wasn't quite a good excuse."

Harry returns his attention to Hermione, "You should try talking to him again." Hermione nods, almost resignedly. Together, the trio makes their way out of the classroom, heading for the Gryffindor Tower to leave their bags and books before heading to the Great Hall. As they step into the Great Hall, Hermione's gaze – for the first time since the school year begin, falls onto certain spot at the table next to Gryffindor's. There, at the Hufflepuff table, at his usual spot with his group of friends, Cedric laughs at a joke. A small smile crosses her features at the sight. She takes a seat at the Gryffindor table with occasional gazes at the other table, hoping to catch the gaze of those steel grey orbs. Hermione suddenly feels attune, like an instinctive nature, to the sound of one Cedric Diggory's voice and laughter. They drown out the voices of others and she perceptively only hears him. It isn't the first time she finds herself in such an adjustment, the other times had been the weeks before the Yule Ball when she found herself suddenly feeling rather attached, in a non-physical manner, to the Hufflepuff in question. It was when she had yet to realize the reason to her attachment.

Throughout dinner however, Hermione finds no opportunity to talk to Cedric as his housemates seem to hog all of his attention. She soon decides to give up on her plan and stands up halfheartedly to leave for the library after informing Ron and Harry of her leave. As she does so, the steel grey eyes catch her in a sudden moment. Her breath abruptly constricts itself at her chest and she quickly averts her gaze with a sharp exhale. Hermione briskly walks away from the Gryffindor table and rushes out the Great Hall to seek the safety of the library.

As soon as she reaches the calming silence of the library, her breath comes out in small puffs of relief. She navigates her way easily around the tables and shelves before finally coming to the far end corner and settles into her favorite table. Her head falls onto the wooden furniture with a quiet thud and her brown eyes close in favor of the tranquility of the moment.

"Granger."

The low, almost velvet–like voice, causes her eyes to fly open and her head to look up astound. Cedric Diggory gives her a tentative smile. "I'm sorry. Did I give you a fright?"

The politeness in his voice wraps a stinging feeling around her heart. "No. It's alright."

"I saw you leaving the Great Hall so I followed." Cedric explains as he absently ruffles his hair with his hand. Hermione nods. Cedric shuffles his feet and looks away. Hermione squeezes her eyes shut.

She opens her eyes again and sees Cedric still standing before her. "Would you like to sit down?" She gestures at the chair next to her.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Hermione duly answers.

"I'm sorry." Hermione looks at him with a slightly frightened expression, as if knowing the next words that would leave his lips. Cedric bites his lower lip. "I know who you are. I haven't forgotten you." Something within him wrenches painfully at the sight of Hermione's pallid expression. Her brown eyes tell him to continue but he could see the fragility within them. "I just can't seem to remember my feelings entirely. I know who you are to me –"

"But you don't know if you love me," she whispers, "still."

Her last word draws a swift slash within him. It stings him badly and he unconsciously grimaces. Hermione bites her lower lip in bid to stop herself from losing her composure. She's not wiling to concede to the weakness she had fought so hard against. The sight of Cedric's expression had, unknowingly to the boy, provided Hermione a misunderstanding. Hermione feels her lip tremble under her teeth.

"The Healers did warn me that I may find myself facing some gaps in my memory due to the impact I had to my head. They called it retrograde amnesia." Cedric slowly explains. "It should be temporary and I would be gaining the pieces back as time passes." His gaze is now apologetic. "Please, Granger – I am really sorry." He says earnestly. Cedric's hand reaches for her but Hermione involuntarily shrinks back. Another stinging grip pulls at him. A voice from within him tells him everything has gone horribly wrong and that he shouldn't be in such a situation, _she_ shouldn't be in such situation. The voice tells him that it doesn't make sense, in fact, Cedric feel as if nothing make sense anymore, not when he can't discover his own feelings for someone who possibly holds immeasurable means for him. "I'm sorry." He whispers.

"Don't be. It isn't your fault." Hermione bravely says. His eyes search her, and she knows he is trying to seek the honesty in her words. He has never doubted her, and she knows he isn't now. He simply needs a confirmation and an assurance. "It isn't." She says again with conviction this time.

"Say, what's the date today again?" A female voice suddenly passes them by.

"September 19." Another voice answers. The footsteps gradually become distant.

"September 19." Cedric repeats. He looks at Hermione. "It's your birthday."

Hermione's features turn surprise at the fact he remembers. "You remember my birthday." Her words had meant to be a question but came in a form of a statement instead.

Cedric slowly smiles, his head slowly nodding as if a memory is jogging itself back into proper retention. "You turn sixteen today, a year older than the rest of the fifth years because of the school year's system." Hermione nods. "Happy birthday." He softly says with another smile. Hermione smiles for the first time since his return and the sight of it only causes his own smile to widen. A familiar lighthearted feeling warms his being.

"Thank you."

Cedric finds himself drawing close to the fifth year witch beside him. Intuitively, his arms reach around her smaller frame and like an intertwine melody of two music parts; she fit right into his arms as they fold themselves around her. Her warmth within him and her distinct scent leads him to a recognizable territory. It feels right and appropriate, just having her in his arms. It didn't seem foreign or the least bit odd as he thought it would. He shifts by a bit to adjust himself and feels her shifting with him. A smile curves at his lips. "I have held you this way before, haven't I?" he quietly asks, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the moment.

"Yes, you have." She mumbles into his school robe. Her fingers curl around the fabric of his robe as her cheeks brush lightly against it. The identifiable curve of his arms around her envelopes her in a feeling she had missed for months.

"Do you have a birthday wish?"

Hermione carefully pulls herself away to look at Cedric in the eye. "I think I have gotten enough." She softly says. Hermione pulls her hands back to herself. "I should go now and you should get some rest soon." She stands up to leave and gives a faint smile, "Goodnight, Diggory." As she turns around, in an inaudible whisper, so soft that Cedric barely caught them, "Keep safe for me."

* * *

_-I once ran away from the god of fear and he chained me to despair-_

She wakes up with a start and a bead of sweat trickling from her forehead. Hermione absently wipes it away as she takes a glance at the small clock on her bedside table. A quarter past five. Feeling as if sleep had evaded her entirely, Hermione pushes her covers away and quietly makes her way out of her dormitory. She reaches the empty and cold Common Room and silently settles herself into a large armchair. Hermione briefly contemplates lighting the fire to keep herself warm but decided against it as she suddenly prefers the numbing cold of her feet. Her arms wrap themselves around her and a fresh memory appears in her mind, barely hours old. His arms had been comforting and she almost lost herself in that warmth; tempted to not let go of it.

"Well at least he's fine." She softy says to herself in bid to lift her dampen spirits. A bitter tinkle of laugh escapes her lips. Hermione knows she's trying to fool herself and failing at it miserably. Like an old wound pried open, the hurt shoots through her again, tearing at her and threatening her defense. She wonders if she should give in. Sighing, she curls into a ball, pulling her feet up and her knees close to her chest.

"_You look small that way." Cedric chuckled as he looked up from the book in his lap._

_Hermione shifted her arms to look at Cedric from the curled up position she was in. They were in their corner of library after successfully avoiding the prying eyes. "It's cold."_

_Cedric stopped reading and pulled his scarf from his neck. He walked over to her side of the table and gently wrapped the yellow and black scarf around her. "Would you need my school robe as well?" He smirked._

"_And let you freeze?" she wrinkled her nose, "Certainly not." He quietly laughed and brushed her hair back to drop a gentle kiss on her forehead before walking back to his chair. "Are you prepared for the second task?" _

"_I have yet to figure out a way to open the bloody egg without having my eardrums splitting in the process." Cedric answered good-humoredly._

"_Have you tried looking up for some clue of some sort in the books?"_

"_Not everything can be solved by opening a book, Granger." Cedric said amusedly as he held her gaze. "I think you of all people would have known that well." She shrugged. "I know you have been looking up ways to help Potter with his egg." _

"_Cedric –" _

"_I understand." He interjected with a smile. "He is your friend and it's natural that your first instinct is to help him."_

"_I'm trying not to pick any sides."_

"_I know you are not. But your alliance lies with Potter, Granger – as it should rightfully be. I will get by on my own." He grinned._

Hermione smiles to herself. Cedric's selflessness when it came to her relationship with Harry had amazed her and served to deepen her respect for the Hufflepuff. He was never mean or horrid to anyone, not even the Slytherins – although his sarcasm was biting when they got too far with their remarks. He trusted easily but he wasn't a doormat in any manner. His thoughts were more than often profound and sensible, likewise his judgments and decisions. All of them and more, were reasons to her attraction to the charming lad of seventeen.

"Would you be the same person that you were then as you are now?" She whispers to the cold air. Her gaze shifts to the window. The sight of the dark horizons beckons her to the window. The sunrise is due in another hour or so, gradually getting later as the year comes to an end. Her forehead touches the cold glass pane. Seconds pass before she feels wetness on her cheeks. Hermione pulls back from the windows and sees droplets of water on the back of her hand. She quickly swipes the back of her hand against her eyes. Silently, she chides herself for the tears. Her fingers shake as her lips quiver. The bitterness within her escapes and pierces through her senses. Misery ironically wrecks her system with much enthusiasm. Soft sobs escape her as she muffles her mouth with her hand while furiously trying to stop the tears. She didn't want anyone to wake up and find her crying. It has nothing to do with pride and dignity, but a weakness she didn't need to be reminded.

Hermione pulls herself away from the window sill and tries to gather herself. With quick breaths, she recomposes herself before going up the stairs that leads to the dormitory. The Gryffindor witch grabs her school uniform and makes her way to the bathroom. Under the hot water, she lets tears flow freely amidst the water. When she finally emerges from the bathroom, there is no trace of her crying self. It is now almost half past six and soon, the rest of the Gryffindors would be awake for the day's classes. Hermione heads out the Gryffindor Tower with her bag on her shoulder and a soft leather notebook in her right hand. She makes her way to the Great Hall and sits at her usual place in the large, empty table. A basket with an assortment of bread magically appears in front of her, along with a goblet of orange juice, a plate of sausages and eggs, and an empty plate with a set of cutlery. She smiles and inwardly thanks the house-elves for their kind thoughts. Hermione reaches for a sausage and some eggs just as Cedric walks in. The steel grey orbs immediately find her.

"You're up early, Granger."

"The morning air beckons." She feebly jokes. "Would you like to join me?" She asks before she could stop herself.

Cedric nods and makes his way to the Gryffindor table. She watches as he settles into the seat opposite her. Another goblet of orange juice and an empty plate with cutlery appears in front of him. "The house-elves truly are amazing."

"Thoughtful too." Hermione adds as she takes a bite of her sausage.

"Slept well, Granger?"

"Partially." She didn't see the point in lying to him. She had never told him a dishonest word and certainly didn't see the need to do so now.

"The same goes for me." Cedric admits. He takes a piece of bread.

It surprises her to know he had equal trouble in sleeping. "I hope it's not because of what I've said." She braves a look at him. "I hadn't meant to make you feel awful. Honestly, do go at your own pace to recover your memory. There's no need to rush." The fifth year gives him a small smile. "You don't have to remember about us, if you don't want to." She softly says.

Cedric shakes his head firmly. "I have to remember. You are not just," he pauses and closes his eyes, "not just someone who passes by in my life. You are much more than that." he continues. Cedric opens his eyes again and with an unhesitant tone of voice, "I need to remember. Will you help me?"

Hermione finds herself at loss for words. His steel grey orbs are determine and resolute. She slowly nods. "How are you planning to begin?"

"By spending all the free time I have with you."

Hermione almost chokes on her orange juice. Cedric laughs. "You can't possibly be serious." She demands.

"What if I am?"

Laughter bubbles up from within her. Cedric looks at her in curiosity. "I don't think you'll have any problem being the insufferable prat that you were then." She explains with a smirk. "That was exactly how you used to bring about my annoyance." Cedric chuckles in reply. She reaches for the notebook next to her and slides it over the table to the seventh year Hufflepuff.

"This notebook –"

"It's yours." Hermione answers.

"But I gave it to you, didn't I?"

"Not quite." She shakes her head, slightly in embarrassment. "I actually sneaked it out of your bag when you weren't looking and kept quiet about it even though you were searching all over the castle for it." She offers the amused lad an apologetic smile. "I only confessed of my deed after your had almost pulled your hair out."

"Well, aren't you quite the sneak, Granger." Cedric smirks.

Hermione rolls her eyes and corrects him. "I was curious. You were always spending much of your time with it and would hardly allow me anywhere near it."

"And it only fueled your curiosity."

"I was almost desperate to fling you to the dragons."

"Thankfully you didn't." Cedric unfastens the cord with a small laugh. His hands adeptly flip the book open and skims through the familiar pages. "This holds our memories." He fondly says. "Things we did, places we went – though it's all awfully near," he looks up with an impish grin and Hermione laughs, "and moments we shared." He keeps flipping the page and stops when he reaches an empty page. The next pages after are empty as well. An inquisitive glance reaches Hermione.

"I didn't know what I could possibly fill with it." She answers honestly. "I didn't felt like I had any right to fill it because whatever memory that I was to fill in those pages would be of mine alone."

"But your memories are just as important."

"This was supposed to be a book that holds memories of two people, Diggory. Not one."

Cedric looks down at the notebook again. "I suppose we'll have to start filling it again together then." A disarming grin appears.

"Are you sure?"

"Positively."

Hermione exhales. "Alright, but isn't it going to be odd for you?" She picks a bite of her scrambled eggs. "It's getting into a sudden relationship with someone that you hardly remember of." Her dubious thoughts voice themselves with a hint of bitterness. She takes another bite and hopes Cedric doesn't detect it.

"No, it isn't because you are not just someone, Granger." Cedric answers determinedly. The Hufflepuff knows the girl before him isn't just a fleeting, passing romantic interest as some may have assumed. He had woke up from three months worth of sleep with the thought of only one person and the memorable warmth in his hand, and it was of the young witch sitting opposite him.

"Diggory," Hermione slowly pulls her words out without looking at him, "we can't pretend to be something we are not, especially not with something like this."

"But we were."

"The past tense explains it." Hermione answers.

"So we can't be 'are' – is that what you are trying to say?" The frustration within the young lad is evident in his voice.

"You can't force your heart to fall for someone." Hermione says sharply. "It doesn't work that way."

"Why are you pushing me away?" Cedric asks.

"I'm not." Hermione answers almost desperately. Her features scrunch in an unfathomable ache from within her heart. "I just can't bring myself to be selfish and to force something that's not of normalcy for you anymore. I can't ask you to hold my hand, or walk me to class, or study together in the library, or to go to Hogsmeade with me. It's not of your own will." The words sting her to say them just as much as it hurts Cedric to hear them. "Don't you see, Diggory? We can't walk down memory lane and expect our past to throw itself back in our faces." Hermione quickly stands up and grabs her bag with her.

"Granger, wait."

"I don't think I should be here any longer. I'm sorry." Tears are threatening to fall from her brown eyes. Hermione didn't want him to see her cry. She knows it would only cause his guilt to deepen and that was the least of her intentions. She shakes her head and runs out of the Great Hall, feeling Cedric's hurt gaze following her. Hermione kept running, bumping into students who are now heading to the Great Hall for breakfast. She pass Draco Malfoy and his friends on the way – their snickers almost had her turning around in temptation to swipe the spiteful looks thrown her way, but she withholds herself and quickly hurries away, no wanting to be thrown into a detention with Professor Snape or Merlin forbid, Umbridge. It isn't until she slams right into another figure did she stop, almost falling backwards but the lad's hand quickly grabs onto hers to stop her fall.

"I'm sorry." Hermione quickly says.

"That's quite alright though you did take the wind out of me for a moment there." The male voice chuckles. Hermione looks up to see Haden Whitlock, Cedric's close friend and comrade for mischief, smiling at her. He had always been the friendly Hufflepuff face to her, the first among Cedric's circle of friends to know of their relationship and to give his approval while he was at it. "Are you alright?" He asks amusedly.

"Quite."

"Have you spoken to Cedric?" Hermione notes the hint of concern lacing his voice. She nods. "I know this isn't my place to say, but do give the lad some time, Granger. I reckon he'll come around soon." Haden smiles again and gives her a wave of goodbye before walking away.

Hermione turns around to see Haden's leaving back. Her gaze shifts when she catches a movement. Harry's smiling face greets her. A breath of relief escapes her at the sight of the raven haired wizard. Harry's smile turns into a look of concern when he sees the look on Hermione's face.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

She quickly shakes her head. "Where's Ron?"

"He'll be coming along with Fred and George soon." Harry looks at apprehensively. "Did something happen between you and Cedric?" He had begun to call Cedric by the Hufflepuff's given name ever since a platonic friendship was formed between them since the Second Task of the Triwizard Cup.

"Nothing happened and probably nothing will."

"Hermione?"

"He doesn't remember, Harry."

"He remembers you."

Hermione shakes her head sadly, "No, Harry. He remembers the girl and who she is, but not what he shared with the girl."

"You mean –" Harry suddenly clamps his mouth shut as the realization crosses his mind. Hermione nods with a weak smile. Before he could say anything again, Hermione turns around and walks away.


	7. Yet we keep believing

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

Yet we keep believing

_-We're all trapped in a maze of relationships-_

"Wait, so he suspected Harry but not me?" Cedric's voice was slightly affronted and the frown on his face showed it. Hermione couldn't resist laughing while Harry had already given in to the hilarity of the situation. "I feel a tad bit insulted."

"You look like it." Hermione said in between her laughter. She gasped and clutched at Harry's arm for support.

"How could he deduce that Harry and you are going out, but not you and me?"

"I suppose the fact that Hermione immediately rushed over to me when we completed the Second Task had something to do with it." Harry answered with a grin. "Come to think of it," he turned to Hermione, "why didn't you go to Cedric?"

"Because Cho Chang and his group of friends were mobbing him in congratulations so I felt I ought to go to you instead and let him have his own moment of glory." Hermione said matter-of-factly.

The Second Task had been recently completed, where the champions had to survive underwater long enough to save the person they would 'sorely miss', as the clue in the egg had sang of. Harry's had been Ron; he had figured just as much it would be either one of his best friends. Cedric's had been Cho Chang, much to the Hufflepuff's surprise although he understood it was probably due to the elder brother-complex he seemed to have around her. However, what amused Hermione so was the fact that both lads had appeared to attempt to save her first before their respective chosen person. "I'm appalled that the both of you thought less of Krum's fancy Quidditch ability. If he could do the Wonky Feint, surely he could swim just as well." Hermione had teased. "Wronski." Both Cedric and Harry corrected her in unison.

Their current topic of conversation stemmed from Harry having had overheard a small group of Durmstrang students talking about their Quidditch idol's apparent notion that Harry and Hermione were supposedly together and was rather devastated by the news, as he passed by them a day before. Harry had it found it the slight bit amusing while Hermione had felt a pang of guilt for the Quidditch World Cup player's apparent feelings that she couldn't return. Cedric however, seemed bothered that he was significantly pushed away in the supposed triangle of a relationship.

"And you couldn't see yourself to be part of that mobbing group?" Cedric raised an eyebrow.

Hermione shrugged, "I don't do well with crowds."

"What a brilliant way to mislead a lad." Cedric said dryly.

Harry chuckled. "Well I don't think Krum would've appreciated the article Rita Skeeter wrote about us either."

"That little conniving reporter," Hermione huffed, "her quotes are audaciously misleading and she's simply turning the Daily Prophet into a tabloid paper instead of the good old news it used to carry in its pages."

"I wonder how she gets her information." Harry said thoughtfully. "It's as if she's just right there at the scene but I don't recall seeing her anywhere near us."

"I don't either." Cedric said, shaking his head. It was bewildering to have every word that left your lips to be reported in the nation's newspaper, even if it was twisted with the added salt and pepper for the extra punch.

"We ought to be extra careful." Hermione's eyebrows knitted together.

"We should get to breakfast before someone sees us and passes another silly idea of an article to Rita Skeeter." Harry got down from the tree branch he had been sitting on. The three of them were by the lake as Harry and Cedric had woken up early that morning for a good-natured flying competition on their brooms. Cedric had just gotten a hold of the Comet 290 prototype, due to release the following year but his grand uncle who was among the broom's crafter chose none other than his grand nephew, whom he knew was well-versed with every broom there is in Quidditch history alongside the obsession of flying, to test the broom. Harry had been eager and more than pleased to test his Firebolt against the new broom. Hermione came along after a round of persuasion from Cedric, and the promise that he wouldn't drag her up on the broom as well.

"I wouldn't mind the publicity so as long as it's good enough to get my rival-in-love to acknowledge the right rival." Cedric joked.

Hermione rolled her eyes but her grin was evident on her features. Harry laughed again. The three of them went into the Great Hall together; Cedric's hand briefly touched Hermione's as they part and made their way to their respective house tables. Hermione felt her smile growing wide with an indescribable feeling of happiness. The simple gestures were always more than enough to raise a stir of emotions within her. His affectionate yet respectful touches and gazes made her feel very much extraordinary in just knowing how much she meant to him. Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor and as soon as she was about to begin eating, the owls swept in and began their daily delivery. To her surprise, a few unknown letters were dropped in front of her alongside her subscription to the Daily Prophet. She picked one up and carefully tore the top to get to the letter. Her eyes widened in surprise of the horrid words that were glaring back at her.

"Who's it from, Hermione?" Ron asked as he took a spoonful of porridge.

She didn't answer him but quickly opened the rest of the letters. They were all the same, if not any more hateful, as the first one. She exhaled sharply. Hermione hoped there wouldn't be a Howler. She didn't think her dignity could stand being shouted and screamed at by a furiously deranged piece of folded sheet. The attention she would get from the Hogwarts' population was bearable, but not the fact that she would be shrieked at by, of all things, a paper.

The next day came along and to her horror; the pile of envelopes that fell onto her plate included two red envelopes. Ron's eyes widened as he swallowed hard. Harry quickly looked at her with a concerned look. Hermione took a deep breath. She carefully pushed the other less glaring colored envelops away. One of the red envelopes flitted up and burst open with its tirade. It took all of Hermione's effort to resist her urge to blast the mad piece of stationery. Harry looked at her apologetically, as her fellow Gryffindors shot her looks of sympathy. The students from the other houses however, watched with interest, some with snicker and silent guffaws – though the Slytherins made no effort in hiding their glee. The professors were thoroughly disturbed as well. From the corner of her eye, she saw Cedric's lips formed a thin line of anger and as he made a move to stand up, she saw his housemate pulling him back down. Hermione felt inwardly glad that Cedric had been prevented from coming over as it wouldn't quite lead to an appropriate resolve of the problem at hand. She looked away to see the second Howler ripped itself just as the first ended and began to screamed its contents at Hermione's face.

The hate mails didn't seem to have an end to them as the days slowly passed and each morning was filled by outrageous accusations without a sense of truth. "Don't open them anymore." Harry said, almost despondently, as the owls come dropping their daily mail for the day. Undoubtedly, the young wizard felt horribly responsible for the bombardment of harsh and hurtful words towards Hermione.

"You know I can't do that, Harry." Hermione answered as she sifted through the letters. As she slid a letter open, a sudden stinging hot sensation greeted her fingertips. A cry escaped her as her hands quickly dropped the envelope.

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed.

The thick olive-colored liquid, recognizable to all fourth years and above, dripped from Hermione's fingers and immediate boils began to form on Hermione's hands. She shrieked as they started to form rapidly, stinging at her hands and causing sharp tendrils of horrendous pain every time a boil formed. The tears pooled at Hermione's eyes.

"It's the Bubotuber pus." Neville said with a disapproving frown. The Gryffindor table began in an uproar. It was one thing for a Gryffindor to receive a Howler, but to receive a hate mail in the form of such devious tricks, it was beyond acceptable. Even Fred and George, who always appreciated a tasteful prank, were cursing profanities.

"Bloody hell." Ron glares at the soiled envelope.

"Alright, that's more than enough." Cedric's voice cut across the angry words and exclamations. "Come on, Granger. We're going to the Hospital Wing and you are not going to be anywhere near those horrid letters anymore." He swiftly picked up her bag and books, blatantly ignoring the attention that was on him, and helped her to her feet. Cedric frowned at the sight of her swelling, boil-filled hands. He placed his arm around the Gryffindor witch and gently guided her out the Great Hall. "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey could find some sort of healing method for it. Otherwise, we could ask Professor Sprout." He softly comforted her.

"I didn't think it would come to this." Hermione admitted in a small voice. Ever since the first day of the hate mails' arrival, Cedric had been against her decision to open them, saying that the people can be awfully mean when they make up their minds to, but she determinedly continued anyway. Cedric simply answered her with a gentle kiss on her hair, close to her forehead. She was glad he wasn't about to mention anything along the lines of 'I've told you so.'

"Keep yourself safe – for me." Cedric quietly said.

To their dismay, the Bubotuber pus wasn't quite as easy as they had hoped it would be to get rid of. Madam Pomfrey offered Hermione a choice between having the boils drained naturally or to have them incised. Cedric winced at both options. "Isn't there anything less painful?" He asked hopefully.

"I'm afraid not. Bubotuber boils are messy things to begin with. Whoever sent you these are absolutely detestable." The mediwitch shook her head as she examined Hermione's swollen hands. "I'll get you a warm compressor to place on your hands, that ought to soothe them a bit. I shall see to you getting excused from your classes for the day."

Hermione nodded miserably. Cedric sighed softly and sat himself down next to her on the empty bed. Wordlessly, she dropped her head onto his shoulder.

"I'm sorry I can't do anything much to help." Cedric said.

"Having you here is enough, though I would appreciate it if you could be my hand within this period of my apparent handicap."

"Pleasure to be at your service." Cedric chuckled. He glanced down at her hands again. "You are not going near a single envelope ever again."

"And miss out on any opportunity of discovering a love letter?"

"Your timing for humor is rather off, Granger." Hermione cracked a smile despite the throbbing pain in her hands. "Honestly, this whole Krum-Potter-Granger triangle has gotten beyond control. Did you see Professor McGonagall's face earlier? She was twitching with so much anger that Haden thought she might set her hat on fire."

A brief laugh escaped Hermione. "I don't think anyone sane and sensible would approve of this." Hermione winced as a boil suddenly ruptured. Cedric quickly grabbed a piece of gauze swab from the tin tray nearby and held it close to the wound. "I hate to think there's going to be more of that." She said pointedly as a lone tear fell onto her cheek.

Madam Pomfrey soon returned with a warm compressor and helped Hermione to disinfect each boil that had begun to pop. Cedric quietly sat by Hermione with his arm around her, drawing her close in hopes to at least of her some sort of comfort as the fourth year witch bravely tried not to cry with each piercing pain that shot up at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her weight on Cedric as Madam Pomfrey carefully inspected the boils.

"I suppose that's the lot of them for now." Madam Pomfrey pulled a long piece of bandage from the front pocket of her white apron and began to gently wrap it around Hermione's hands. "You won't be able to use your hand for now I'm afraid. Try to avoid getting in contact with anything to prevent the boils from being punctured; they will drain on its own soon enough."

"How long will it take to all go away?" Cedric asked.

"Probably less than a week. It's a good thing her hands weren't in contact with the Bubotober pus for too long."

Hermione shuddered visibly at the notion of having her hands swollen with boils for over a week. As she thanked the Mediwitch, Cedric reached for their bags and books. When she turned around to face Cedric again, a sudden thought crossed her mind at the sight of the Hufflepuff.

"Granger? What is it?" Cedric asked with a worried look when he noticed the ashen face of the Gryffindor witch.

"You came to my aid in the Great Hall." Hermione slowly said. She groaned. "I can see the headline for tomorrow – Granger adds third Triwizard Champion in conquest."

Cedric couldn't help but laugh. "Ignore the newspaper, ignore the mails, Granger. You can't possibly expect me to just sit there and let you get hurt by the utter gullibility of the masses."

"But this brings about a whole new dimension to the triangle."

"So we have a square now? Or is it a rectangle?" Cedric answered amusedly as he steered her out of the Hospital Wing.

"Your timing for humor is rather off, Diggory." Hermione said wryly.

* * *

_-We are like blue flowers trying to live-_

"Hermione, just what exactly are you trying to do?" Harry eyes the dark hair witch by his side with a wary look in his brilliant green orbs. He sighs just as her hand around his arm tightens. He grimaces at the tight grip with her fingers almost digging into his flesh.

"Trying to avoid him." Hermione answers distractedly.

"You've been avoiding him since the day after your birthday." Harry says pointedly. "It's more than two weeks now. How long are you planning to avoid him?"

"Until he gets it in his head that his reasoning of trying to get into a relationship he has no recollection of, is absolutely ridiculous." Hermione says as she looks around the wall of Zonko's Joke Shop. "Whatever is taking Ron so long?"

"It's his favorite place." Harry replies as if the single sentence answered all her curiosity on their best friend's apparent attachment to the wizarding joke shop, which it did. Hermione blows a small lock of her hair way from her face in frustration. Cedric Diggory moves from the window of Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where he had been looking into the window display with his friend, Haden. Hermione immediately turns back, almost slamming into Harry who reflexively take quick steps back to avoid the collision. As Cedric passes them by without noticing them, Hermione sighs. Harry notes her sigh hadn't been just out of relief, but also of despondency. "I don't quite understand why you won't allow him to even talk to you."

It's their first Hogsmeade visit for the school year and with Hermione's persuasion and reasoning, Harry finally decided on teaching Defence Against the Dark Art to their fellow schoolmates, and their first meeting had been the very morning itself. Much to Hermione's surprise, Cedric was among those who turned up – she later found out it had been Lee Jordan who had informed Haden, who in turn, notified Cedric. Throughout the uncomfortable but successful meeting, Hermione had carefully stayed by Harry's side and avoided Cedric's gaze, although the latter was inevitable as she was entrusted to completely convince the few skeptical students of the reasoning of their formation. Harry had almost given up on the idea when a few dubious remarks were passed but Hermione hurried in with rebuttals of rationality to silence their doubts.

"I didn't. We just haven't got any opportunity to speak."

"Certainly not, with how you've been keeping away from him." Harry answers with a hint of sarcasm.

"Just tactfully not crossing my paths with his." Hermione replies. She looks up at Harry. "I'm sorry, you must think I am being a horrible person for giving him the cold shoulder."

Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for the witch in front of him, somewhat understanding her odd logic. It didn't occur to him to ever question her reason of actions, but it didn't mean he wouldn't try to push her out of it. Harry witnessed it himself – Cedric's confused gaze whenever the Gryffindor bookworm suddenly flees whenever their paths were about to meet. He couldn't help but feel torn in between sympathizing for the older lad and accepting Hermione's actions. Harry lifts his hand and gives Hermione a tentative pat on the arm and an encouraging smile. "I suppose you of all people would know exactly what you are doing. Just," he stops and thinks his words for a brief second before continuing, "just remember it's another heart within this situation, not just your own."

Hermione nods and give a small smile. At that moment, Ron happily steps out from Zonko's with Lee, Fred and George. "Nothing could make Ron happier except for food and pranks." Hermione shakes her head amusedly as she looks at the redhead.

"It's time you let yourself to seek for yours again, don't you think?" Harry smiles knowingly and leaves Hermione's side to see what Ron had gotten from the joke shop.

Hermione takes a deep breath, completely understanding Harry's words. She looks down the road and sees the familiar tall Hufflepuff laughing with his group of friends. A small smile curves at her lips when she sees one of her favorite grin crosses at his good looking features. To her surprise, the steel grey eyes suddenly catch her gaze and shifts by a fraction to look at her. Instead of averting her eyes, Hermione boldly keeps her gaze. She watches as his eyebrows furrow by a tad bit and a crease appears in his forehead. Hermione debates going over to him and with her foot just about to take a step forward, Fred's arm suddenly playfully swings around her.

"Come on Hermione, off to a drink at The Three Broomsticks to celebrate the humble beginnings of our illicit association." The Weasleys' twin's voice says merrily.

"Spectacularly said, Fred." George laughs.

With her intentions disrupted, Hermione swiftly turns to the twins with a hiss, "Stop shouting it out at the top of your lungs."

"It's a free broadcast." George winks.

"No cost at all." Fred adds.

Hermione rolls her eyes and the rest of the lads laugh. As Lee pulls Fred away by the latter's shoulders, effectively releasing Hermione from his hold, she looks at the direction she had originally been looking at. Cedric's friends are already up ahead, heading to the bar & inn, but he stays behind with his gaze still on Hermione. He gives her a polite smile and turns away to follow his friends. Hermione feels her heart getting heavy and reluctantly pulls her feet to the very same place.

As they step in the crowded bar, Hermione immediately spots Cedric and his friends at a table at the middle of the room. The only empty table, as luck would have it, is the one beside theirs. Ron immediately makes a beeline for it, Lee, Fred and George following after. Harry gives her a nod at the direction of the empty table and a perceptive look. Hermione squares her shoulders and briskly walks toward the table. Angelina, Katie and Alicia join them at the table, much to her relief. The crowd around her and at her own table ought to prevent any opportunity for a sensible conversation between two people. Hermione also makes it a point to sit on the opposite end of the table.

"_Granger, are you actually ignoring me?" His voice sounded mischievous instead of upset as she would have expected it to be after his fifth failed attempt of getting her to look up at him from the book she had been very much engrossed in. The sixth year Hufflepuff, also known as one of the Hogwarts Triwizard champions, had been attempting various ways to get her to look at him, including attempting a silly face by rolling his eyes upwards, nose pushed to mirror a snout, while he grinned wildly. Hermione finally looked up expectantly. He beamed at her cheerfully, "I've got a feeling that the day you actually ignore my existence would be the darkest day of my life." She had laughed it off in response._

Hermione frowns at the memory. She cautiously looks over at Cedric. His face cracks into a grin at a joke Haden is telling but Hermione notes how the mirth in his eyes aren't there as it usually would be. The steel grey orbs seem to lack in the sincere and raw emotions of jollity that Hermione noticed the first time she met the Hufflepuff. Guilt rips at her being with her conscience inwardly snapping at her for unwittingly being the cause of the apparent melancholy wrapped around the seventh year. It sting at her to know her obstinacy was the root of their current situation. She isn't one to lower herself for a lad but to be adamant and hurt a lad is another thing altogether, especially a lad whom she actually cares about very much – memory or not.

A hand reaches out to touch her by the arm and Hermione quickly turns in a defensive reflex. "I'm sorry, but could I have a word with you, Granger?" Cedric asks with a serious look.

Deciding running wouldn't do her any good as he would probably either chase after her, or Harry and Ron might just trip her in the midst of her escape just to get her to talk to the Hufflepuff, Hermione nods and gets up to follow Cedric out of the noisy place. None of their friends acknowledge their leave, knowing full well what it concerned.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione looks at Cedric with amused eyes as he chuckles at their sudden harmony of words. "You should go first." Cedric offers.

Hermione takes a deep breath, her gaze leaving Cedric for a few seconds to the ground underneath them before looking at him again. She feels the chill of the coming winter air nipping at her cheeks. Hermione consciously brings her arms together for warmth. She notes Cedric's usually healthy features are paler than usual with hints of red flush from the cold. Without a second thought, she pulls the knitted scarf around her neck and brings herself closer to Cedric before pulling it over his neck. "Here, you should have this." She says simply and takes a step back without tying the scarf, slightly anxious to have too close of a physical contact with the Quidditch Captain & Seeker.

"Thanks, Granger."

"I feel awfully terrible for the way I've been avoiding you," Hermione begins, her forehead creases in disgruntled lines, "I didn't quite know what to make out of it and I thought perhaps the time away from me would do you some good."

"It caused quite the opposite effect." Cedric gives her a half-smirk. Hermione winces apologetically. Cedric begins to walk down the path leading to the Shrieking Shack and Hermione willingly follows beside him. "Granger, is it really a bad thing if I'd like to try at this relationship we used to have?"

"It's something of the past that you could possibly go without."

"I doubt we were unhappy together." He looks at her curiously.

Hermione smiles and shakes her head, unable to lie. "No, we weren't. We had a few rough patches but somehow things always end up alright between us."

"You do realize that your words had just diminished the significance of your earlier words, don't you?"

Hermione turns to look at Cedric, "Perhaps it wasn't quite meant to be any longer than it should." Her voice is analytical and solemn as she continues, "Perhaps that was why this particular memory of yours wasn't kept in the retentive storage of your brain."

Cedric laughs lightly. "A feasible reasoning, I reckon. But have you ever thought the other way around?" Hermione raises a questioning eyebrow. "That perhaps it could be a self-defense mechanism to protect what's important to me." Cedric answers thoughtfully.

"I never thought of that." Hermione admits.

"Sometimes, maybe it's the way you choose to look at something that it tends to blind you with the other optimistic alternative." Cedric says with a shrug. He quickens his steps and stops by a small patch of flowers, almost withering out for the ending autumn days. A small flower with all its petals intact is the only one among the rest who still stands bravely in the cold air.

"It's about to wither soon." Hermione comments when she catches sight of the little flower.

"Yet it hasn't. It's still giving all it's got to bloom and feel the sunshine before simply giving up and let itself to fade into remnants of its beauty."

Hermione crouches down next to Cedric. "Are you trying to tell me something? I would appreciate a direct approach instead of beating around the bush." Her lips twitch in a smile.

Cedric grins. "Be like the flower, Granger – bold and daring to take the chance?"

"And if I did, it's possible I might wither away."

"You're much stronger than that. I reckon it will take you more than just the cold winter to get you off your roots."

"Are you complimenting me?" Hermione's brown eyes twinkle in amusement.

"Well, girls do often like being seen as similarity to a flower consequently I can't help but make the same association for you."

Hermione laughs. "You compared me to its foundation, not its beauty as most would do so in a rightful imagery."

"That doesn't quite fit the requirements of a compliment then?" Cedric playfully feigns ignorance as he stands up.

"Absolutely not." Hermione laughs again. "You are simply awful at giving compliments, Diggory."

"I'm positively sure that isn't one of the reasons why you decided to go out with me."

"Brilliant deduction." Hermione answers with a deadpanned look. Cedric laughs. She turns to look at him, feeling the recognizable emotion of gentle affection like a familiar lullaby she had always loved, rushing through her being.

"Granger, try not to run away?" She looks at him dubiously. Cedric answers her with a tentative reach of his fingers to her left hand that's at her sides. The warmth of his fingers immediately seeps through her and they slowly intertwine themselves around her own fingers. His gaze lifts from their intertwined fingers to meet her brown orbs. "I've seen myself without you for two weeks and it's nothing worth of my being awake and alive." Hermione keeps silent. "You are someone worth remembering, and that goes the same for our memories." He quietly says with a small smile.


	8. Like living in two sides of a coin

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

Like living in two sides of a coin

_-But I want to keep believing that our wishes will become wings-_

"Morning, Granger." Hermione looks up with a beam on her face at the Hufflepuff's voice. Almost a week had passed since the Hogsmeade weekend and with the many events in Hogwarts during the recent days, it wasn't often she'd get to spend time with Cedric.

As they left Hogsmeade together that very day, Cedric and her had fell into a conversation so naturally like they never had the gap of three months between them. It was as if Cedric had been there and nothing had quite changed. If Cedric ever felt himself was lost in the conversation, he never showed it, thus allowing Hermione to believe, as she so much wanted to, that everything would be fine between them. They shared their laughter as the warmth between their loosely entwined hands held them close. The awkwardness they had encountered during their initial meeting after his return never occurred, to Hermione's surprise and Cedric's gladness.

However, as the weekdays began, they found themselves brought apart much to their disappointment. Umbridge placed a ban to all student organizations causing captains of the Quidditch teams, including Cedric, to contest for their team's approval, thus it made the Hufflepuff very much occupied. Harry's sudden burst of temper, a reenacting moment from the summer holidays, led Hermione to be worried for the wizard and stayed anxiously around the latter.

Whenever Cedric tried to locate the Gryffindor witch, she was often busy with Harry or her prefect duties. Likewise, whenever Hermione wanted to call out to him as soon as she caught sight of him, his attention would be pulled away by his friends, Quidditch teammates or the professors. It was bewildering to them to have themselves unintentionally pulled apart like a little game where catching each other for a time alone seem to require a strategy, or quick wits of some sort.

Their closest form of communication had been the fleeting smiles on the lips and brief touches of the hand as they passed or saw one another as either was in haste for one thing or the other. The first DADA meeting gave them an opportunity to be within each other's presence longer than just a mere minute but it wasn't enough to share a private moment without the prying eyes and ears of the others.

"Have you got the time to spare?" Cedric asks with a hopeful smile.

"I thought I would never be able to say yes." Hermione answers. "But we ought to be quick. I promised Harry that I would be there for the Gryffindor Quidditch practice."

"I'll make this quick then." Cedric swiftly pulls her by the hand and leads her from the corridor to the small fountain where there are no students around at the time of the evening. The small fountain quietly gurgle spurts of water as they approach. Cedric turns to her with a smile, dropping her hand and reaching into pocket.

"Diggory, what exactly are you up to?" Hermione asks amusedly.

"This." His right hand reveals itself with a small and intricate box, not much bigger than his palm. "I found this in my sock drawer yesterday and when I opened it," Cedric pauses and lifts the lid of the tiny box. A soft tinkle gently reaches her ears and lifts itself to the space within them and into late afternoon sky. "I remeber it to be the very tune I used to whistle for you."

"How did you get this?" Hermione finds herself speechless. "I saw a first year with a music box of the same tune. She said it was to be a pair."

"Not exactly." Cedric grins. The Gryffindor witch pulls her eyes away from the little box and looks up in befuddlement. "You choose your tune, be it of your own composition or something less original, and the maker would magically fit the tune in for you. He makes two of each just in case something happens to the original. If the buyer sees it fit, then he'll sell off the second but not before carefully amending the tune to differentiate it from the original." Cedric explains. He holds out the music box in his hand. "This, Granger, is the original. The one you've heard, I reckon you weren't listening to it closely as its tune actually changes midway."

Hermione gingerly picks up the intricate music box. She looks at it with interest and curiously turns it over. The numbers three, one, one, and two appears engraved on its bottom, along with her initials. "That's 31st December, the day you told me of your feelings." She shakes her head, not quite understanding. "But how could you have this made when you were in Hogwarts throughout the school year, and what with the Triwizard Cup and all, you couldn't have possibly gotten out of Hogwarts to do this. Not to mention having it inscribed with a date that you may or may not possibly have obtained my answer –"

"Granger, the other thing about the original music box the maker creates, is that it only plays its music as soon as the correct date and owner's name is inscribed – magically. When you said yes to my feelings, your name magically inscribed itself alongside with the rightful date." Cedric gently says. "Therefore there isn't any other, but just one of this little music box that belongs only to you and no one else." Cedric gives her a small smile.

Hermione feels her lips curving into a smile. "Thank you." The words softly tumble from her lips as she tries to keep herself from being overtly emotional.

"With this, even if I can't be around you, you'd still have something to remember my feelings by."

Hermione feels the feeling of happiness brimming at the edge as she continues to gaze at the music box in her hand. A feeling she had almost thought she would never quite find again yet here it comes with a pleasant knock at her door. She looks up at Cedric again, someone she had came close to losing yet here he is; standing in front of her with a smile on the familiar features of his that she had came to remember it by heart – each line and curve. Sentimentality and poignancy of the moment builds within her to open the tear ducts but she swallows them down, finding it ridiculous to cry at a moment when the appropriate response should be a smile or a laugh to signify the elation within her. The wind sweeps past them and playfully blows around them, sweeping the leaves at their shoes and rustling the trees nearby for a cheerful sound. The water in the fountain makes a small patterned noise, gurgling with jovial splashes of water against water.

Cedric slowly leans in and stops within a few inches of her face. Steel grey orbs look into her brown ones as if silently asking consent. His eyes are full of quiet emotion and Hermione could see herself reflected in his eyes, the kind and affectionate gaze it held of her. Her head nods by a fraction. He brings his face close and she feels his warm breath tickling her face leading her to an instinctive reaction to close the short gap between. His lips meet hers halfway in the gentlest of touches before pressing themselves closer and she feels the light pressure on her own lips. Hermione finds herself pressing to memory the feeling of his lips against hers. Innocent and simple, yet sweet and precious to the both of them. Cedric gradually pulls away with a hint of smile. When she opens her eyes again, his face is still only a short inches away. She feels the back of his fingers reaching to her cheek and trailing down to her jaw, they linger at her lips, and Hermione couldn't help but feel the warmth rising to her face, before pulling away entirely.

"Thank you, Granger."

Hermione nods once before turning away and begins to take her leave. Within a few steps, Hermione stops and looks over her shoulder. She smiles at the Hufflepuff and quickly turns around again. She hurries to the Quidditch pitch, feeling and knowing the euphoric glow is radiating off her like a silly street light beaming in the bright daylight. She laughs to herself at the odd simile. When Hermione reaches the Quidditch pitch, she settles at her usual spot after waving at Harry, and Ron who seemed to be slightly struggling with his role as the new Keeper.

From their first practice, Hermione had been rather incredulous at Ron's Keeper abilities though she didn't quite had it worded. She knows Harry has the exact same thought in his mind as well though. Hermione turns her concentration to the textbook in her lap but every so occasionally, finds her attention turning away to the moment she had shared with Cedric.

When Harry and Ron finally comes over two hours later, fresh from their shower, Hermione realizes she had only read three quarters of her intended reading what with the distraction that kept flitting itself in her mind. Her smile however, remains on her face as if nothing could really prevent the sheer joy that she's feeling inside. Harry and Ron lift their eyebrows in skeptical surprise as they reach the beaming witch and the latter gives her a teasing remark while Harry just smiles knowingly.

"Oh honestly, Ron, stop it already with the wagging of your eyebrows."

"Only if you stop smiling like witch who's gone barmy." Ron responds with a grin.

"My sanity is just fine."

"But your emotions are crossing hearts in the air."

"Oh sod off." Hermione looks away embarrassedly. Harry chuckles. She shoots him a warning look, as if saying 'not you too'.

"Well, you are practically glowing, 'Mione."

"Awfully bright too." Ron adds.

"You haven't seen bright until I hex you for all it's worth." Hermione says calmly. Ron immediately shuts his mouth. "Shall we be off for dinner?" She beams. At Harry's nod of agreement, she picks up her books and bag and begins to march off at the direction of the castle.

"Merlin. It's her kind of fury that I can't take – calm and silent, but ready to blow your guts out anytime." Ron says in a low voice to Harry.

"I heard that."

"Bloody hell. Does she have invisible Extendable Ears or some sort?"

"No, Ron. You are just predictable." Hermione answers again, without looking back.

The color from Ron's face drains. Harry shakes his head amusedly – already familiar to the fact that Hermione perceptively catches on to a person's personality enough that she could inevitably decipher the person easily, especially someone as simple as Ron. They step into the Great Hall together, heading right for their house table. Harry smile when he sees Hermione looking over at the Hufflepuff table, at the one spot she had been prone to avoid during the start of their school year. Seeing the glow around Hermione, it serves to bring relief for him to know one of his best friends is no longer in miserable moments where she wallowed in the sadness of the past. Hermione looks at him questioningly as she catches his gaze but Harry just smiles and looks away.

Hermione looks away from Harry and her gaze meets Cedric's from across the tables. His lips quirk in a bashful smile at from being caught staring at her before quickly averting his attention. The breathtaking moment from early that evening rushes to her mind. As she reaches for the plate of roast chicken to pick a piece of the poultry for herself, Hermione wonders in amazement at how much she had wanted so much then to have Cedric just smiling at her again with the familiar warmth of mirth in those steel grey orbs of his, and to be able to see it now. Just a month ago, it felt like a helpless wish made blindly in the dark while grasping to any thin shred of hope available. Her rational conscience pops in and she inhales quickly, mentally pushing it away.

* * *

_-Ride on the wind and ring the daybreak's bell-_

Hermione Granger laughs as she watches Cedric spins around in the air with his broom. The Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and Seeker make a quick spin before he comes down to the ground again, just barely a few short meters before shooting up to the sky again within seconds. As odd as it would seem for many, Hermione is the last person someone would mistake for a girl who would openly be in awe of at a lad in his actions, but the Gryffindor is undeniably amused at the Hufflepuff's jubilant self to simply be flying again in the sky. The elation and rapture for being up in the sky are evident with the grin that keeps growing on his face and the excited steel grey eyes. There is nothing foolishly girlish involved in Hermione's excitement, just simple gratefulness to be able to see the eighteen year old going on with a passionate hobby of his.

"Care to join me, Granger?"

"Never." Hermione shouts back. She shudders at the thought of being on the broom with Cedric when the Hufflepuff's practically going at almost 100mph, zooming and accelerating with such swift speed.

"Oh come on, it's lovely up there." Cedric grins as he zooms dangerously past her. Hermione would have jumped back in fright if she hadn't trust his skills with the broom much. "The sky beckons."

"Only you and not myself." Hermione answers. "The ground calls of me to stay where I am and I have to say I am perfectly content with it."

"Are you planning to just ogle at me as I fly?"

Hermione snorts aloud and Cedric chuckles as the sound. "The appropriate term that the narcissistic self of you failed to use, would be observe."

"Are you planning to just observe me as I fly then?" Cedric corrects himself as he pulls to a sudden halt to his broom and looks at her, his feet just inches away from the ground. He holds his hand out, the inviting grin on his face. "I could teach you how to fly."

"Or I could teach you the joy of walking." Hermione counters hopefully.

Cedric laughs before promptly getting off his broom. "Well then, by all means, do go ahead." He mutters a quick spell and his broom takes off by itself, presumably returning to its original place where Cedric keeps it. Hermione inwardly sighs in relief at the sight of its leave. Cedric looks at her expectantly.

It's a lovely Saturday with the blue sky and gentle morning breeze in the air. The sun peeks from the clouds, effectively bringing a shine to the grounds but nothing scorching to break a sweat. "We could walk around the grounds of Hogwarts." A skeptical look crosses Cedric's features. "It's lovely when you really observe it." Hermione quickly says in defense. She begins to walk and Cedric falls into step beside her. "Just look at the grasses below you, all sorts of shapes and sizes, various hues of greens and some yellow." She points out as she keeps her gaze on the ground, "Have you ever notice how there would always be three patches of green before a spot of yellow comes along?"

Cedric smiles amusedly, "Not quite." True to Hermione's words, the grass appears as she said. Almost like an equal mathematical equation, the yellow ones appear after every three greens, even if looked at diagonally, upwards and downwards. "Is it just Hogwarts or is the same with grasses of others?" Cedric ponders aloud, realizing he has never notice the grasses of his home before.

"Just Hogwarts." Hermione murmurs. "The playground close to my home has its grasses in startling green in the summer but when spring comes along, every eight footsteps that you take, diagonally, brings you to a small patch of tiny white flowers."

"I take it that you often do this?" Cedric asks.

"Quite." She beams up at him.

"Looks like there's a fuzzy cotton-like thing over there."

Hermione's gaze follows Cedric's finger pointing to a spot a few short feet away from them. "It's a dandelion in its parachute ball form." Hermione exclaims and eagerly runs over to the spot of white among the greens. "It's lovely."

"Endearing too." Cedric says absently, staring in amazement at nature's little yet pretty being.

"I wish we could blow at it, but that would serve to be cruel to disturb its natural course of life."

"But by blowing at it, you are simply speeding up the process of its seeds' disperse. That doesn't count much as a disturbance."

The fifth year wrinkles her nose, "Maybe it's not quite ready yet."

Cedric laughs and nods. "Ever the thoughtful one." He comments with a soft gaze on the witch beside him. His gaze switches back down to the ground again. Catching sight of a distinctive rock amongst the grass, Cedric reaches for it and holds it up for scrutiny.

"That looks like a wing of some sort." Hermione comments as she catches sight of the pale rock. She looks around them to see if she could spot any other rock quite like it.

"It's odd how we could've just missed something as unique as this if we weren't down here." The Hufflepuff comments thoughtfully. His fingers graze the rock before holding it against the sky. Alongside the clear blue sky, the rock looks good enough to pass of as a cloud with its slightly rounded edges and stark pale self.

"This one looks like a butterfly if you squint hard enough." Hermione lifts up a light brown rock.

"It looks like a ladybug."

"Certain not." She points out at both sides of the rock that appears to form a curve shape larger than the middle.

"A tied ribbon. There are no antennae to have it as a butterfly." Cedric decides. "Honestly, are we really having such conversations?"

Hermione laughs. "I did tell you that walking would be simply lovely and educational. You observe things you usually wouldn't take notice of." She pulls herself up and aimlessly waves her arms around with her hands open. "Can't you just feel how amazing this is – it's all around us. Mysteries and puzzles, imaginations and fascinations." She beams and begins to run.

Cedric laughs as he watches the dark haired witch simply enjoying the feel of the wind at her face as she runs without a destination in mind, running and turning at random. He allows himself to settle on the ground, not minding the dirt one bit, and pulls his knees up as his arms casually crosses on top of them. The sight of seeing the usually studious and serious bookworm being blithe and mirthful brings a huge smile to his face and a feeling of stirring admiration and warmth for the witch before him. He find himself amaze with her with each passing day in her presence. Her intelligent mind, quick responses of brilliant thoughts, alongside her unselfish heart makes him wonder how it all exists in just one person. Her unyielding spirit of loyalty and audacity – no matter if it's for Harry, or for her principles, they shine right through evidently in her every word and action. Of course, she has her flaws – the obstinate stand that she takes at times, the complete perfectionist which misconstrues the real reason of doing something, or the downright refusal to completely trust in someone without giving a second's worth of the benefit of the doubt. Cedric chuckles, knowing full well that she wouldn't be Hermione Granger without the flaws. He knows he has his own set of flaws and that no one is indeed perfect. Yet when he looks at Hermione, he can't help feeling the closest being of perfection there is.

When Cedric had first returned to Hogwarts, seeing her had raised a very much familiar feeling within him. He had woken up with the image of the girl and her name, leading him with much curiosity on who she was to him, he knew that she was someone close to him but he could faintly recall the precise feelings for her.

Upon the Hufflepuff's recovery, Remus had taken to discuss with him of his fragments of memory when the Diggorys had stepped out of the hospital room. Cedric had quietly admitted to the former Hogwarts professor of the missing emotions within him. He didn't have to mention the feelings in specific as Remus understood completely the person in mention that said feelings presumably belonged to.

"It would be temporary, Cedric." The weary and quiet man comforted. "I am not too sure why it would be those feelings in particular but there are times, we seek to forget something because it is important to us."

"Do you mean to say when we seek to forget something it is because we wish to protect it?" Cedric asked.

"That would be quite correct."

"But by forgetting, wouldn't that hurt?" Cedric's voice was bitter.

"It would." Remus nodded. He sighed softly. "Many had been studying of this emotional retention of the brain and various theories were formed on the affect of emotions on our memory, but none have been quite accurate as I'd like to think." Remus looked at Cedric in the eye, "But remember Cedric, you had been threatened to meet death and it would have been natural for yourself to have shut down on a memory that you wish to prevent You Know Who from finding out." Cedric frowned and said nothing more. He understood of the concept but it still didn't quite make sense.

However when Cedric's gaze first fell on her, the fifth year who had stood out in between of the crowd around him and her small group of friends, Cedric felt compelled to find out more about the very girl – and it then brought some truth in Remus and his' theory. In her gaze, it was as if she had known him for years' worth and he knew he was someone important to her. Naturally, all these served to fuel his intention to rekindle what he had lost because it seemed if he didn't, he might lose something, or someone, vital to the existence of his being.

"What are you staring at?" Hermione's laughing face comes within inches of his. "You've been staring into a space of minutes long that I was wondering if you were alright."

"I was just thinking."

"What about?" Without waiting for an answer, Hermione drops herself to the ground in front of him.

"I can't completely remember whatever happened between us but it feels as if it doesn't quite matter because I could just get to know you all over again." The young wizard answers thoughtfully. "It's feasible isn't it, to create new memories?"

Hermione shifts her attention, feeling a sudden cold grip on her heart. Like a chair being suddenly pulled away from her when she had wanted to sit, she suddenly felt humiliated and disappointed. "It is."

Cedric notices her gaze averts to the ground and her attention seems to have shift in interest at the grass. "Did I say something wrong?"

"When we kissed, it wasn't quite out of your complete intention was it?" Hermione asks softly. "It was a moment we were caught up in and allowed our emotions to overrule over our logical thoughts – for instance remembering that we aren't in the same physical context as we used to be."

"Do you think the kiss we shared was a mistake then?"

"No." Hermione draws her lips into a thin line of uncertainty. "I'm saying that perhaps we have rushed ourselves into something you may not quite be certain of." She looks at him firmly now. "You haven't completely found your feelings for me yet, have you?"

"I know that you are important to me."

"A sibling, a best friend, they would have equal importance as well." Hermione answers. She stretches and falls onto her back, pulling her legs to a stretch as she lay down. Her gaze directs itself to the sky above her. The sun appears to be drawing back behind the clouds.

Cedric allows himself to lie on the grass as well. He pulls his right hand to the back of his head as the other rests on his chest. "But you are certainly not a sibling or just a best friend."

"A friend."

"An important one." Cedric counters.

"But the romantic notion of it, where does that fit in, Diggory?"

"I don't know." The voice comes out apologetic, almost bleak. "What am I to you now, Granger?"

"Someone seemingly within grasp yet unreachable within the heart."

The Quidditch Captain pulls himself up to look at her. "Could I ask," he pause in hesitance but continues when Hermione looks at him as if prompting him to continue, "if you still have the same feelings as you used to for me?" he whispers. It hadn't meant to be a whisper but it came out as it did. In truth, Cedric feels his heart stammering in anticipation and slight trepidation of her answer.

"I always have." Hermione answers. She swiftly pulls herself up and somehow Cedric knows the moment is broken. Hermione brushes a hand carelessly against her back before looking at him. "I am hoping that you'll remember yet I can't force you to remember. I wish you would though. We can carry on as if we both believe in this, and I honestly, very much wholeheartedly did so," Cedric catches a flash of frustration in her brown orbs, "but it's hard to run away from reality." She stands up.

"Are you leaving?" He asks.

"I've got homework to complete." Hermione answers without looking at him.

"I'll see you at dinner." Cedric says softly and Hermione nods before leaving. She doesn't turn back and Cedric knows the moment shared between them had broken the dream they had been in. The sun is now completely hiding behind the cloud.


	9. Of unspeakable hurt & hidden tears

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

Of unspeakable hurt & hidden tears

_-Before I doubt my memories, my memories doubt me-_

Cedric kicks at his trunk in silent frustration. Haden, from his position on the bed beside Cedric's, looks up with knitted eyebrows. The former blatantly ignores his friend's inquiring look and simply flops down onto his bed with a thud. He sighs loudly. Haden looks away to his book. A groan escapes.

"Something wrong, Diggory?" Haden finally asks as he shuts his book, knowing full well he would not be able to get his reading done with an insufferable seventh year lamenting of his apparent affliction.

"My memory."

"Ah." Haden nods in understanding. "I am guessing it's got to do with a specific person in your memory?"

"It's complicated rubbish. All of it." Cedric groans. He grabs his pillow and tosses it into the air before catching it again. "These fragments of my memory drive me up the wall. It appears as if my brain does not correspond with my heart."

Haden sighs. "Ten minutes, Diggory. Tell me all you've got." Cedric gets up on his elbows and smiles a thank you to his fellow Hufflepuff. "The torment I place my ears through." A pillow greets Haden with a smack. "Do you want me to listen or would you prefer the empty walls in front of you?" He turns to Cedric with a narrowed gaze.

"Have you got any idea who hard it is to want to be with someone but not being able to find a reason for the undeniable urge you have to simply do so?" Cedric says, completely ignoring Haden's threat. "It's compelling yet inexplicable."

"Does she know?"

"I did mention of it."

"Perhaps it's the great disparity between your feelings and your behavior that that cause her to be uncertain." Cedric stays silent, as if silently mulling the words in his head. "Or maybe because you seem to have gone mental." Haden suggests. At Cedric's scowl, he continues with a grin, "Well, you did take the hit to your head pretty badly."

"The one thing I probably regret remembering is the fact that I have you as a best friend." Cedric retorts. Haden simply barks in sarcastic laughter. "Sometimes I wonder if those memories are of my own."

"The ones of you and Granger?"

"Yes. There are bits that I recall of, like the music box, her favorite food, her habit of biting the end of her quill when she is deep in thought, but those are the tangible memories, I need to know the ones that are of the emotions."

"Have you ever thought that perhaps before you begin questioning your own memories, she has already questioned them herself?" Haden shrugs at the look of revelation on his friend's face.

The steel grey eyes turns away with a frown, "That's what's turning her away then?"

"Granger isn't forcing you to remember, she had given you the choice to turn away from it – from your shared past, if that's what you'd prefer." Haden answers. "Don't be selfish, Diggory."

"Selfish? Me?"

"You are forcing yourself into an emotion for someone you are not entirely sure of and as that someone, it is unfair for her." The wizard with dark hazel, close to brown, eyes says in a factual voice. "You doubt yourself, don't you? Yet you still throw yourself into it, believing it is the right thing to do when really, you are only severing the relationship."

"When did you get an Outstanding in relationships, Whitlock?"

"When you started being a twat." Haden says dryly with a roll of his eyes. "Anyway, your ten minutes are up mate. Any more and it's a galleon."

"Per ten minutes?" Cedric says incredulously.

"Per minute." Haden corrects as he opens his book once more. "Now stop bothering me and go play by yourself. Run along."

Cedric scowls. He decidedly pulls himself up from his bed and heads out of his dormitory, past the Hufflepuff Common Room and up the stairs. He doesn't have a destination in mind as he allows his feet to carry him wherever they pleased. It doesn't come much of a surprise for him when he soon finds himself at the library. Cedric realizes that even when he isn't sure of himself or his feelings, he still wanted, or rather needed, to see a certain witch. He had grown fond of her presence, like a habit he couldn't and wouldn't get rid off.

"Hermione." Hearing the particular witch's name being called by another's voice catches him in surprise. His steps unconsciously quickens yet in a silent, hushed manner to prevent the announcement of his presence. Cedric looks around a large bookshelf to see Hermione and Harry, the former looking rather distraught and the latter appears to be consoling her. Cedric feels his heart plummeting to see the distinctive curve of the fifth year witch's lips in a visibly upset frown.

"I don't think I can be patient. It's too complicated, Harry. You know that." Her voice is pleading and almost desperate.

"It's just time. A short period possibly and it would be alright." Harry touches her shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. "You were happy during these past two weeks and both Ron and I have never seen you quite as happy as you were. So don't let it end here."

"Only because I choose to believe in it, Harry."

"What do you mean?"

"I know he doesn't feel as he does before, yet I chose to believe that he would find it again and it would be alright. It feels so awfully close – that happy end I imagined, but it's so much shorter than that now and I doubt it would be alright to continue the pretense."

"But you love him, don't you?" Harry's voice is now bordering between confusion and impatience.

The next words that spill from Hermione's lips cause Cedric to feel his blood suddenly running cold. "I almost don't want to anymore." Cedric watches as the fifth year wizard pulls a tearful Hermione into his arms. A sting bursts forth in Cedric's being as he watches the sight before him. Hermione easily curls her arms around Harry's neck, quietly hiding her face in his shoulder as the latter pats her on the back. Quietly, Cedric steps away from the book shelf and walks a few meters down before slipping between two rows of shelf in the Divination section.

"_It's a scary thought to know I could lose you."_

"_That won't happen."_

"_We can't foretell the future, Diggory." Hermione murmured. He reached up and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand to get to look up at him instead._

"_The final task isn't for another two months." He softly said and smiled. "Until then, worries about death can wait." Hermione nodded. As she did so, her collar shifted by a bit and he caught sight of her neck and the smooth expanse of her collarbone. Wordlessly, Cedric brought himself close and hid his face in her neck, gently breathing in the scent that was Hermione's. He felt her breath hitched for a moment when his lips touched her skin. It reminded him of how alive he was at that moment, just as she was – and how he wished he wouldn't ever have to leave any and all of it._

Cedric clutches at the bookshelf at the memory that flashed in his mind's eye. His head suddenly feels light and his legs seem to ready to give way to the weight of his body. The bittersweet moment lingers in his mind. Something within him wakes with a jolt of the memory's emotions – the evident sorrow, the unspoken fear, the passionate longing, the sought affection, and the treasured comfort. Cedric looks up again and finds himself looking into the concerned eyes of Hermione Granger.

"Are you alright?"

"I remembered." He whispers. Hermione's eyes widen as she realizes the meaning behind his words. He continues, voice still in barely audible tone, "The night in the kitchens when you first told me of your worry for me in the Triwizard Cup. You were anxious and frightened as it wasn't just Harry but of my own participation as well." Hermione slowly nods. "I, on the hand, was feeling a pang of slight regret for my participation, but hopeful nevertheless for whatever would come next as I had you by my side."

Hermione bravely takes a step forward. "Is that your first memory?"

"Of us, yes." Cedric closes his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. "I can remember the time we were in the library studying and Viktor Krum came by to ask you to the Yule Ball," he slowly says, "the time when we were in Hogsmeade and shared a large chocolate frog because you couldn't finish the special 8 inches version by yourself, and that time – when you almost fell in the Owlery but a misstep brought you to knock into me and I ended up with an injury instead of yourself."

"You scrapped your hand against the rock when you tried to find your balance." Cedric winces as the memory replays in his head. He looks down at his left hand, seeing faint injured, paralleled lines on the palm of his hand. "It's that hand alright." Hermione confirms.

The Hufflepuff chuckles. "I think it bled quite a bit, didn't it?"

A small smile crosses at Hermione's features, "It bled a little too much for a typical scrap so we had Madam Pomfrey to look at it. She wasn't too happy as there was the concern of germs and infection, seeing as it was the Owlery after all."

Cedric look up from his hand to see Hermione standing just right in front of him. Her fingers gingerly graze his open palm. The cold yet soft feel of her fingers almost cause Cedric to shiver in utmost familiarity at the touch. His lips quiver with a tentative smile. He catches whiff of the faint scent that reach his olfactory senses, a scent distinctly Hermione's. The scent clicks in with his memory – comforting, reassuring, and very much affectionate. Instinctively, Cedric steps forward, effectively closing the short distance between them. He watches as the Gryffindor witch stares at him wide-eyed and her lips pulled into a thin, solemn line. Cedric didn't quite know if she would hex him if he goes any closer but for some reason or another, he's sure of one thing – no matter what hex is thrown at him, he'd still want to be near Hermione.

"Granger." The whisper leaves his lips. He could almost hear his heart; marvelously beating at a pace he hadn't been sure it could ever do so. With a bold decision, he gently pulls Hermione towards him and wraps his arms around her. "Please don't give up just yet." Cedric feels her sudden rigid stance at his words. Her hands hang at her sides and his heart wrenches at the fact.

"Why not?"

The sting within him deepens. "Do you – are you doubting the recovery of those feelings?" he slowly asks. Cedric pulls away by a bit and looks at Hermione. "Honestly, Granger – isn't it enough to know that I care buckets load about you and I am completely unhinged without your presence?"

"Why are we trying to fight for something that isn't there anymore?" Hermione's question isn't a challenge, but a sincere question that is in desperate need of an answer.

"Because what we are isn't just something randomly short for a fling."

"Were."

"It's not the past tense, Granger." Cedric's steel grey eyes flash with slight annoyance. Hermione pulls away from his arms and he lets go, almost dejectedly but it doesn't show on his face. "Is this it then, Granger?" Hermione looks away and gives a swift nod. Cedric wonders if the crashing sound he hears ringing in his ears is from his heart, or the signals going off in his head that whatever he has came to know as his life is now shattered. When he looks at Hermione, he recalls the smile that he looks forward to seeing, the soft gaze that meets his with affection, the touch that soothes and calms his every nerve, amongst the many other things. The rush of emotions within him causes him to squeeze his eyes shut.

"Diggory?" Hermione asks in concern. Her hand reaches for him but stops mid way, as if afraid a physical contact could ignite her lost will to reconcile with the Hufflepuff. The words of ending burns within her and so, she had chosen to answer him with her actions instead of words.

"I love you."

Hermione freezes n surprise at the sudden words that were flung at her. She feels the wind knocked out of her. Suddenly, breathing seems like a task. Hermione looks at Cedric questioningly.

"I can't recall the exact love I had for you then but what I am feeling now, it is love. As new as it is, as different as it may be, as odd and sudden it may seem," Cedric pauses, "it's love. I, for one, am neither going to argue about it nor to fight it."

"Diggory –"

"You can let go if you'd like, Granger. But I am not giving up. I will pursue you again." Cedric smiles, this time in confidence, "because it's you whom I've gave my heart to and I doubt I'll ever have it back. It's yours."

Hermione struggles inwardly with the revelation of Cedric's confession. Unexpected and bewildering, almost complicated, like a new arithmetic equation she didn't quite know the answer to yet desires to have it solved anyway. His gaze on her is certain and honest. She suddenly remembers Ron's comment about penguins and their one mate for life and how much he thought Cedric and her were alike said flightless birds. She knows she doesn't see herself with anyone else but the Hufflepuff, at least for this phase in her life's years. In fact, she couldn't see herself with anyone but Cedric Diggory or to find herself without him. The past few months were more than enough to torment her to the brink of desolation and allowed her to realize how much she had come to see Cedric as part of her very own life's existence. She has yet to decide if it's the reason or the motivation or the encouragement – but either way, his existence in the world and within her life seemed rather much imperative to her own existence.

"I'll be waiting, Granger." Cedric drops a polite kiss on her forehead as he takes his leave.

* * *

_-What comes after a war is one game-_

"Are you sure you're alright with this?" Ginny asks the fifth year witch beside her at the Gryffindor table. All around them, students are eagerly tucking in to their dinner after a day's worth of classes.

Hermione shrugs, "It could be just a fleeting notion he has."

Ginny shakes her head in slight disappointment. That morning, she had happened to witnessed Cedric walking Hermione to her class after breakfast. The latter had stiffly nodded but said not a word to the Hufflepuff, even as he kept up a steady stream of chatter. Twice he offered to carry her books, but she declined both attempts. At lunch, when he dropped by the Gryffindor table to say a friendly hello, Hermione barely looked up and shot him a brief, tight smile before looking away to her plate again. Ginny and the others had seen the crestfallen look of the Quidditch Captain & Seeker but he graciously smiled before going over to the Hufflepuff table.

"Hermione, you know that he loves you, so why are you giving him the cold shoulder?"

"I'd rather not talk about this." Hermione firmly answers as she reaches for the casserole.

Ginny shoots a look at Harry and Ron, as if indicating they should speak up as well. Harry looks at her in hesitance while Ron shrugs. Ginny almost clicks her tongue aloud at the hopelessness of the situation. "Really, Hermione – are you planning to just ignore Diggory?"

"I am not ignoring him."

"But you are not giving him the slightest bit of attention."

"Or is it affection that you meant?"

"That too." Ginny answers. "Honestly. First you avoid him and now you ignore him." Hermione turns to Ginny with a sharp look.

"Say 'Mione, do you think I could borrow your Potions homework after dinner?" Ron quickly jumps into the conversation.

Hermione's attention shifts away from the youngest Weasley. "Haven't you started on it yet, Ron?"

"Not quite." He answers sheepishly with a boiled potato halfway to its destination which is his mouth. Hermione sighs and nods wearily.

"Hermione –" Ginny begins again.

Hermione almost groans aloud at Ginny's apparent persistence. If it is anything for the youngest of the Weasleys is to be commended for, it is her utmost patience to succeed at anything and everything she puts her mind into it – or as Hermione at times prefers to call it, stubbornness. She looks to Harry with a quick pleading gaze when he meets her eyes.

"Hermione, could you take a look at my Astronomy essay?" Harry interjects. Ginny narrows her gaze at him but he pretends not to notice.

She beams at Harry gratefully. "Of course, Harry. We could go over it right now if you'd like and if you are done with your dinner." Hermione drops her fork and knife eagerly onto the table.

Harry almost winces at the situation he has gotten himself into. He had been looking forward to the treacle tart but it doesn't seem as if he'd be able to have it now. Reluctantly, he places his cutlery onto his almost empty plate. "Come on. Ron can catch up with us when he's done with his fourth piece of pork chops."

"Third." Ron corrects.

Hermione shakes her head amusedly. She takes a napkin and picks out a treacle tart from the plate of desserts. Harry looks at her in grateful surprise and she responds with a knowing smile. "We'll see the both of you later." Hermione says to Ginny and Ron before leaving with Harry.

"Really Ron, are you and Harry being equally thick to assist her in silly actions?"

"Silly actions?"

"Blatantly ignoring Cedric Diggory." Ginny jerks her head towards the entrance of the Great Hall. Ron looks up to see the seventh year Hufflepuff going up to Hermione with a grin on his face as he talks to her. Hermione nods and replies with a few words. At her supposed response, Ron notes the brief disappointment that crosses the Hufflepuff's features but it quickly fades away with an amicable smile in replacement. Hermione then leaves with Harry, who gives Cedric an apologetic look before leaving. "She's being ridiculous, really."

"It's their relationship, Ginny. Leave them be." Ron answers simply as he takes a bite of his fried tomatoes. He wipes his mouth with the napkin, sees Ginny frown and decidedly avert her attention, and looks over his shoulder to the Hufflepuff table. He watches for a few seconds at a particular Hufflepuff, joking with his friends in conversation. Ron inadvertently feels sorry for the seventh year. Though he had never been much concerned with the Hufflepuff's relationship and his best friend's – Ron does care quite a fair share of the happiness of the latter in particular and over time, he gradually felt a substantial share of acceptance of Cedric's presence in the trio's lives. The Hufflepuff had been nothing but genially sociable like a friend instead of a senior two years ahead of them, which allowed Ron to have found further reasons to be accepting of the Hufflepuff; that, and the fact that Cedric has always been an interesting person to talk to when it comes to Quidditch.

Ron understands Ginny's concern – in fact, he understands the rest of the Gryffindors concern for Hermione. Ron sees the worry etched in their gazes and the frown on their lips whenever they look at Hermione, quietly sitting alone at the isolated corner in the library, or under the Rowan tree, or even when she poked at her food without participating in the conversation during meals. He doesn't think the witch herself notices though. The brainy bookworm, although rather insufferable at times with her constant know-it-all personality, is a friend and housemate rather well liked by all – especially since she helps with the multiple points' collection for the Gryffindor house and her vast knowledge in assisting almost any student of every year with their homework. Yet Ron knows his best friend had endured much to be bravely standing at where she is now and for whatever reason she seeks to not acknowledge Cedric, he knows it's a reason for her self-defense – to protect herself from crumbling from her place. Who's to say you can trust someone whom you can't even trust your memories with? Maybe it is wrong for her to turn away from the Hufflepuff but there isn't anyone to say that she hasn't got the right to defend her heart, Ron reasons. Harry may be vocally supportive of Hermione while Ron prefers to be quietly supporting off the side – mostly because he didn't think it was necessary to voice too much of his thoughts so as long as Hermione knows he is standing by her side anyway.

"You should talk to her, Ron." Ginny suddenly turns to her brother with a hopeful look. Ron immediately shakes his head. He quickly finishes the last of his dinner and excuses himself in hurry to escape Ginny's apparent persistent at having him to be the matchmaker. Matchmaking is the least of Ron's favorite things to do, in fact, it isn't anywhere in his list of things to do at all. When he reaches the Common Room, he sees Harry and Hermione going over the former's Astronomy essay as the latter opens her books and explains the facts to Harry. Ron pulls out his Potions essay, or what is supposedly his essay with just a few scribbles of lines, and sits right next to Hermione. Hermione looks at him expectantly.

Ron lifts his hands up midway, "Only bloody homework, Hermione. Nothing else." He already knows the question lingering at her lips.

"Brilliant." Hermione answers dryly. She takes his roll of parchment and unrolls it. "Ron, were you even intending to have this finished by tonight?" Hermione asks incredulously.

"That would be exactly why I am hoping you'd be so kind to lend me your essay?"

"So you could copy it right off my own?"

"I'll make a few adjustments." Ron says hopefully.

"Really, Ron." Hermione frowns but reaches into her bag anyway and Ron knows he has won. "You have got to make your own reference to the textbook though. You can't take the exact notations I did because it will easily give you away." Ron nods eagerly as he happily takes her parchment. The trio carries on with their homework throughout the night until the clock chimes twelve and Hermione finally yawns. Pulling her books towards her, Hermione looks at Ron and Harry – the former almost half asleep on his parchment and the latter with his constant yawns. "We should get some sleep." Hermione says softly, not quite wanting to disrupt the peacefulness of the moment. Ron mumbles something inaudible to their ears.

Harry chuckles lightly. "I reckon he agrees with you."

Hermione smiles and absently reaches out to smooth the tuft of raven hair that is sticking up on Harry's head. "Well, I'm off to bed. Do wake Ron up before he catches an awful cold." Hermione says as she stands up with her books and bag.

"Goodnight 'Mione."

"Goodnight." She catches Harry's gaze and finds herself hesitating to take another step to retreat. His green eyes hold a silent statement that she knows he has been waiting for the right moment to tell her. "What is it, Harry?"

"Are you sure you are alright with the way things are between Cedric and you?"

"Perfectly." Hermione replies in a clipped tone of voice. Harry shrugs to himself and looks away. The fifth year wish feels incline to say more but decides against it and turns on heels to her dormitory. As soon as she steps into her shared dormitory, Hermione quietly makes her way to her bed, quickly discarding her things neatly aside before grabbing her sleep attire. In the bathroom, she brushes her hair with quick strokes without looking in the mirror before brushing her teeth hurriedly. She slips into her pajamas and carefully slips out again and into her bed. The comfortable softness invites her in and she curls herself in a fetal position. Her breathing comes out in soft hiccups as tears gather in her eyes.

"Granger." His voice had reached her ears in the softest of voices, deep with emotion and edging on the brink of helplessness and misery.

Wetness touches her cheeks as small droplets of water rolls off and onto them. Hermione quickly swallows hard and tries to silent her sobs. A heavy weight brings itself onto her chest and her hand quickly reaches up to push against it, frantically hoping for it to go away. She feels herself falling deeper into the abyss of wretchedness. Hermione curls herself almost into a ball now.

His steel grey eyes had looked at her in sincere hope but when the words left her lips, it disappeared and gave way to the desolation of dashed anticipation. She recognized the hurt that flashed within those very eyes and it had caused a sharp rip within her while she tightened her hands until her knuckles were almost white. Remembering it now brings the weight on her heart to a heavier state. Hermione uncurls from her form and looks up with silent sighs of misery. The memory burns within her and scalds her beyond any comfort. The past three days may have been utter dejection for Cedric, but for her – the one who brought forth the unkind treatment to cause him such feelings, it had been torturous. She wanted Cedric to stay away simply because she couldn't reason herself to be sensible enough to accept a change within their relationship.

Hermione had avoided his gaze, pretending not to notice his amiable smile. When Cedric tried to approach her from afar, she pretended not to hear and walked further away. If he was close enough for a conversation and she was unable to escape, she would place an intentional act of not bothering a word he said when in fact, she was listening to every word of his. He had tried to sit at their usual table in the library, twice, and twice she immediately closed her books with an excuse that she was done with her homework before walking off without a look backwards. Everything she did defined the word unkind. They were like her nightmares during the summer, only she is the one doing it to herself now.

Unable to take it anymore, Hermione suddenly sits up as she feels herself almost choking for breath. Hermione wishes she hadn't done any of the awful things knowing full well they had been an act of a little child on tantrums. She is undoubtedly afraid with Cedric's befuddled feelings, one after the next that she doesn't know which version of him she could bring herself to trust completely. Her heart is at stake and at the end, it would indefinitely be taken away – the only difference is it being taken with her being completely whole and alive, or devastatingly empty. She had almost lost her heart to despair and loneliness once and it frightened her to know she could possibly be entrusted into those feelings again.

Hermione turns to her bedside table, gazing at the drawers before pulling open the first to reach for a particular item. She stares at it sadly for a few minutes. Her gaze keeps itself on the watch's face as seconds tick by. When the hour hand strikes twelve in a parallel manner at the large clock of Hogwarts and the bell chimes once, Hermione blinks.

As if awaken from her dream but still in a daze, her feet touches the cold floors and without grabbing her school robe or a jacket and her feet still bare, Hermione brings herself to the door and creeps down the staircase to the Common Room before making her way to the portrait hole. She half wishes she has the Marauder's Map and Harry's Invisible Cloak but it didn't stop her from getting to her destination in mind. The marble staircase that leads to the hallway of the Hogwarts' main entrance barely feels cold under her feet. Hermione stealthily continues her journey across the wide and empty area. Just as she is about to reach the painting of a bowl of fruits, a whisper startles her.

"Granger?" She immediately whirls around. Cedric comes into view from the muted darkness and stares at her in bewilderment. "Whatever are you doing here?" She doesn't have to say anything however as Cedric's gaze sweeps over being and stops at her feet. "You are barefooted." He hisses in urgency and takes a step forward. Without waiting for a response from Hermione, he tickles the pear in the painting and pulls open the painting while pulling at her hand to lead her into the warm kitchens. His immediate destination is the brick fireplace at the end. Hermione soon feels the icy feeling in her toes turning toasty warm within seconds. Cedric pulls off his school robe, revealing his plain grey tee and checkered pajama pants, and gently wraps it around Hermione's shoulders.

Hermione watches in amazement as the seventh year goes to Dobby to request for a mug of hot chocolate and immediately, the mug is brought forth to her. "Drink up, Granger. It will help to keep you warm."

She takes a long drink from the mug before pulling it away from her lips. "Thank you." Hermione mumbles. Cedric simply smiles. He doesn't say anything but averts his attention to Dobby who is now asking if the Hufflepuff would like anything to eat.

"Just hot chocolate would do, Dobby."

"I'm sorry." Cedric looks at her. "I was being awful towards you and simply hateful. I'd understand if my apology isn't enough for you but if I could, I honestly would take back my actions." Hermione rambles.

"Granger," Cedric softly interrupts, "it's alright."

"No, it isn't. How could you even allow yourself to be concerned over someone incredibly selfish as me and absolutely hateful while I'm at it?"

"Because I did say I love you and I'd wait." Cedric answers reasonably.

"Even if I'm being an utter prick towards you?"

"Well, I'd admit it's a new side of you that I'm trying to get used to." The Hufflepuff tries to joke with a short laugh.

Hermione shakes her head. "I was conceited and unkind, selfish and insolent –"

"Because you are only protecting yourself." Cedric finishes. At Hermione's surprised look, Cedric continues, "I'd doubt myself if I was you – completely unwilling to trust until I can be sure of myself."

"Why do you even bother?" Hermione asks quietly, looking at the mug in her hands.

"Granger, it's the same reason that you waited for me when I was unconscious. You don't just give up on the person you love, do you?" Cedric gives her a sheepish smile. His hand reaches for his own mug of hot chocolate which Dobby had left on the table in quiet thoughtfulness of avoiding an interruption to the pair's conversation.

"I was horrid." Hermione states with a frown. She shifts in her position, unconsciously bringing herself closer to Cedric's school robe.

"You weren't too bad." Hermione raises an eyebrow as if in challenge of his statement. "Alright, maybe a little insufferable." A chuckle escapes the fifth year Gryffindor. "Honestly, it drove me beyond misery and up the gallows of torment."

Hermione winces, remembering her own torment. "I'm awfully sorry."

"An apology once is enough, Granger." The Hufflepuff kindly says.

Hermione shake her head. "Actually, I came down here to look for you as I have something to tell you." She notices the smile on Cedric's face visibly shifts by a fraction. "But it's nothing awful," she quickly says, "at least I hope it isn't." Hermione takes a deep breath and bravely looks at Cedric, "My feelings are inevitably here in existence and it's utterly absurd to keep running away from them." She exhales sharply. "Do you get what I mean?" Hermione asks upon seeing Cedric's stunned expression.

"Does it translate to your acceptance of my feelings?"

"Yes." Cedric looks away and Hermione swallows hard with slight trepidation. "Diggory, if it's not alright with you, I could take it back." She hopes hard his answer would be a negative.

"No, it's alright. But, are you sure?" He looks at her again, his gaze imploring.

"Absolutely. I am a wreck just lying to myself." Cedric keeps his gaze on her and the next few seconds passes in silence between them. His steel grey orbs just looking into her brown ones – searching. A small smile flutters at Hermione's lips, tentatively hopeful but ever so warily afraid. She looks down at their hands beside one another's. Hermione willingly reaches out to meet his hand.


	10. And of bliss in a safe haven

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

And of bliss in a safe haven

-_And may tomorrow be wonderful too-_

Cedric wonders if the warmth he had felt in his hand the night before had been a dream or a fragment of reality. He opens his eyes and turns to his right to see Haden sound asleep in the bed next to his. The seventh year turns to his left to catch a glimpse at the clock on his bedside table. An hour to breakfast, two hours to classes. He sighs quietly before pushing himself off the bed with sleep still lingering within him. At the prefects' bathroom, Cedric stares at the reflection at the mirror. The messy haired boy with grey eyes, eyes that were once stunned into fear and darkness, and pale skin looks back at him. The reflection however, has his lips curve in a smile – almost goofy-looking, Cedric decides. He runs a hand through his dark hair only to mess it up with ruffled tufts. Taking a deep breath, Cedric turns around to the large bath tub and reminds himself to keep his heartbeat in check lest it decides to go over its limit with the mix of anxiety and exhilaration bubbling from within him.

As he heads down to the Great Hall, in a clean and crisp shirt and dark long pants, alongside his school robe over the attire, his black shoes make a sharp, clear sound against the concrete. Cedric bites at the edge of his lower lip, mentally scolding himself for suddenly feeling awkward. Haden had commented, just as Cedric was about to leave the dormitory, that the latter looked incredibly charming for the day – with much dripping sarcasm and laughter. Cedric looks away from a bunch of giggling second years who greeted him with shy waves – to which he responded with a smile and a nod of greeting, to see Hermione Granger walking from the opposite end of him. The smile tugs at his lips, deepening the slight crease at his lower cheek and the steel grey orbs brightens in warmth and anticipation.

"Granger." He hears himself calling out to her in a steady and confident voice. Cedric is amazed that his voice isn't betraying the storm of trepidation and flashes of indescribable bliss within him. He had almost expected his voice to come out in, Merlin forbid, a childish squeak. Cedric watches as her brown eyes lift their gaze to him and almost immediately, lights up with a familiar glow within them.

"Good morning." She beams.

"Had a good sleep?"

"Splendid." Hermione laughs. "Are you alright? You seem a little tense."

"Really?"

"You are actually fidgeting with the cuffs of your robe." Hermione nods to the direction of his right sleeve. Cedric's fingers immediately pull themselves away.

"I wasn't paying attention." Cedric says with a sheepish grin. He notes the thin line of contemplation on Hermione's lips. "What is it, Granger?"

"Would you mind if I was to come any closer?"

"I suppose not." Cedric answer curiously.

Hermione bashfully takes a step forward and within a few seconds, closes the distance between them. Cedric watches her in surprise as her hands reach for the front of his shirt. "Your tie is in a distorted manner." She explains softly without looking at him. Her fingers deftly and gently unknots the tie before pulling it again to a new and neater cross of the fabric. The fifth year witch feels Cedric's warm breath so close to her and the scent that is familiarly his, reaching her senses and causing a stir of feelings within her. She tells herself to concentrate at the task at hand instead of how pleasant Cedric's scent is, or the smile at his lips which she could see from the corner of her eye, or the broadness of his shoulder with his Quidditch-trained physique. At the final knot, she tightens it carefully and pulls it up neatly to the collar of Cedric's shirt. Hermione gives it a short pat of satisfaction before taking a step backwards. Cedric smiles at her with thanks. "You're very much welcome." Hermione answers knowingly. She quickly takes another step back, reminding herself to breathe.

"Are you alright, Granger?" Cedric's voice is almost teasing.

Hermione finds herself momentarily at loss for words. She couldn't possibly tell the Hufflepuff that she was almost enthralled by him. "I'm fine. Are you hungry? Shall we get to breakfast? Classes would begin soon and you wouldn't want to go to in with an empty stomach. We should go in before the food finishes. I'm sure you are famished." Hermione rambles, almost tempted to slap her hand to her mouth to shut it before she could continue with further inane ramblings.

Cedric chuckles good-naturedly and nods. Inside, he's glad to realize the nervousness hadn't been a feeling for just one. He takes a deep breath and quietly reaches for her left hand as he falls into step beside her. Cedric hears a sudden sharp intake of breath from the Gryffindor when his fingers touch hers. Just as he thinks he should pull away, he feels her fingers delving further, entangling with his in a gentle and almost playful manner. Cedric smiles. Without looking at the young witch beside him, he knows a similar smile is etched on her face. Together, the pair walks in the Great Hall with their intertwine hands between them. A silent hush befalls the students in the hall before a steady flow of whispers and chatters come by, alongside with approving and consenting smiles from the faces of their friends. Cedric walks Hermione to the Gryffindor table; his hand lingers within hers for a moment before it pulls away in slight regret of the missing warmth and takes his leave – the smile still on his lips.

Throughout breakfast, they exchange smiles and gazes – be it intentional or otherwise. Regardless, every time grey eyes meet brown ones and vice versa, their lips would tug upwards in amusement. When Hermione finally stands up to leave with Harry and Ron, Cedric immediately shoots up from his seat – much to Haden's hilarity before the latter obliges and follows his friend, and together, the five make their way to their first class together. Cedric and Hermione walk beside each other, their fingers finding each other's as the group falls into a conversation about the upcoming Quidditch match. Ron proudly proclaims Gryffindor will take the Quidditch Cup, regardless, while Cedric refutes it with a friendly challenge. Harry immediately jumps in with a not so nonchalant, and rather confident, remark that the Gryffindors are ready for a challenge any given time. Hermione shakes her head almost exasperatedly and terms them as "absolute Quidditch loons". The boys laugh as Ron answers an affirmative to her statement – "awfully proud to be one, really." When they reach the Golden Trio's classroom for History of Magic, the Hufflepuffs bid them goodbye – Cedric gives Hermione a gentle squeeze of affection before letting go of her hand.

They meet again upon the end of Cedric's last of classes for the day where Hermione waits for him outside his Charms classroom, seeing as Professor Flitwick's class went fifteen minutes extra.

"Well, I suppose I should take my leave now. A lad can take a hint when it shows up in his face." Haden smirks knowingly as he steps out the classroom with Cedric. Hermione gives him a nonchalant smile as she's already familiar with the Hufflepuff's good-natured teasing.

"You're not coming for our Quiddtich practice?" Cedric asks.

"I think Granger would be able to cover my share of enthusiastic support for the great Hufflepuff Seeker." Cedric gives a playful shove at Haden as the latter grins wolfishly.

Hermione almost flushes at Haden's words but composes herself quickly. "I don't do uncultured yelling and sprouting of profanities as well as you do, Whitlock."

Cedric laughs. Haden shakes his head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation, "Always with a witty comeback, Granger."

"I aim to please."

"And you never fail." Haden answers dryly but the smile on his boyish features shows no sign of annoyance.

"As much as I enjoy the banter between the both of you, I have got to be at the Quiddtich pitch in ten minutes."

Haden turns to Cedric with an exaggerated sigh, "Must you always be thinking of Quidditch?"

"When I am the Captain of my house team, why yes Whitlock." Cedric replies as he reaches for Hermione's hand. "Are you coming or not? I haven't got time for your grandmother-like antics."

"You did not just say I'm ancient." Haden narrows his gaze. Hermione laughs.

Cedric shakes his head. "Grandmothers can be as young as fifty." Haden's jaw drops. "Stop pouting and come along."

"Fifty isn't any better you twat."

"You are hitting twenty in three years. Thirty years or so makes no difference." Cedric answers with a conspiratorial grin at Hermione.

"Insufferable prat." Haden mutters. Hermione laughs again, enjoying the childish banter between the two Hufflepuffs. Cedric looks at her with mirth in his eyes as his hand wraps around hers. Haden falls into step beside Hermione, and despite with her being in between them, continues to dispute the aging topic which apparently, hits a sensitive spot with the hazel eyed lad. Occasionally, Haden would reach out to smack Cedric back in the head, causing the Quidditch Seeker to reflexively retaliate in good humor, though Hermione, more than often, finds herself ducking and avoiding because both boys apparently have no sense of an accurate aim when it comes to each other. Their humorous war of words continues all the way to the Quiddtich pitch until Cedric leaves to change. Hermione duly drags herself up the stands and Haden follows after.

"I reckon Cedric looks much better than he did before, don't you think so?" Haden says conversationally as he looks out to the pitch where the Hufflepuff Quidditch team is beginning to gather.

"Did he – was it awful previously?"

"Try halfway deranged."

"I'm sorry."

Haden looks to her with a smile, "Don't be. You had your reasons I'm sure." He looks at the pitch again as the whistle blows. "He did take it badly but he also understood what you were going through. It's tough but I reckon it served to strengthen what exists for the both of you, doesn't it?" Hermione nods slowly. "I can tell you one thing though."

"What is it?" She asks with bated breath.

"He's never going to make it without you." Haden answers simply. "Honestly, Granger. I've known the lad for years and his attraction to you is inconceivable and possibly, irrevocable. He is absolutely drawn to you, even when his memory failed him – it was undeniable for him on how much he just wanted to be with you."

"Are you trying to imply that you will hex me if I was to hurt him again?"

Haden grins, his dark hazel eyes twinkle in mischief, "You're certainly the smartest witch of your age." Hermione laughs. The Hufflepuff good-naturedly swings his arm around her shoulders. "I awfully do like you, Granger."

"Is that a confession of some sort?" Hermione smirks.

"Oy. Whitlock! Hands off mate!" One of the Hufflepuff Chasers barks out with a laugh.

"Unless you don't need your hands anymore, Cedric would be pleased to have them vanished into oblivion." The team's Keeper, Alden, adds with a grin at Cedric. Cedric merely laughs. The seventh year wizard catches Hermione's gaze and he grins at her as if to let her know he's alright with her closeness to his best friend.

In fact, Cedric knows how much Haden approves of Hermione – after all, the latter was the one who had urged him to "bloody tell of that motion-inducing feeling of love". Cedric had been hesitant to confess of his feelings, unsure of the Gryffindor witch's feelings as he knew he had a line of lads to fight off for said girl's heart.

Although Harry and Ron were only on friendship basis with her, there wasn't any prove to say their constant protectiveness and companionship were merely platonic without the slightest bit of attraction. Viktor of course, had made his attraction completely clear. Then there were the other Gryffindor lads who probably spent more time in her presence than Cedric had been able to. He understood she had choices and he may not necessarily be her decision. It was nothing about the lack of confidence or anything of that sort, but the mere humbleness of the Hufflepuff that he didn't dare placed too much hope on a reciprocation of his feelings.

In truth, Cedric didn't quite notice his feelings for the Gryffindor until the early December of his sixth year, a short few weeks to the Yule Ball. He had been intrigued by the young witch ever since he first met her at the World Cup. She didn't blush or stammer, or talk oddly – and she didn't seem to sound breathlessly faint which Cedric noted with amusement that most girls seemed to have whenever they talked to him. Her dark eyes were confident and assured, clever yet skeptical. Upon their return to Hogwarts, he had been pleased to know he'd be able to see her again as he found himself thoroughly curious by the Gryffindor. Cedric wondered of the books she read, if she tied her hair in ponytail or a French braid, her most despised subject – surely she had one, he reasoned, and most of all, he looked forward to simply being in her presence.

When she had slowly pulled away from their friendship upon the entire school's mixed reaction to Harry's name for the participation of the Triwizard Cup alongside his own, Cedric had been utterly confused and slightly annoyed to lose a friendship within such silly reasons. Hence his defiance to his fellow peers' thoughts and opinions. He had yet to realize it was because of his growing attachment to the fourth year Gryffindor, and simply assumed it was because of a friendship he would hate to lose.

It wasn't only upon one day in the library, at their usual table, did he realize the warm feelings he had within him wasn't just platonic, but a strong affection and attraction to the dark haired witch sitting beside him. Hermione had been reading a book for Herbology when her hand moved and brushed against Cedric's before it absently started to tap their fingers on the back of his hand.

He had playfully captured her fingers within his and didn't let go even when she tugged at it. She had looked up with knitted eyebrows and a mock scowl on her lips, and Cedric had laughed. Seeing his apparent perseverance with her fingers, she turned her attention back to her book and allowed him to do as he pleased. It was at that very moment, when he intertwined, tugged, meddled, tickled, tangled, their fingers together did he noticed how much he enjoyed having her hand in his as they seem to fit perfectly with one another's, gloved in shared warmth. The steady rhythmic beating of his heart felt so much at ease yet elated at the feeling of having her beside him. He had quietly looked at her and smiled to himself, understanding for the very first time, the feeling of being in love.

Haden Whitlock, after weeks of enduring his best friend's silent lamenting, finally threatened to hurl a cauldron of boiling potion at Cedric if the latter didn't came forth with the truth. The former had only been more than pleased to assure his best friend that when it came to looks, possibly the brains and quite likely the height, Cedric would definitely win points – though the latter trait earned Haden a raised eyebrow that silently questioned of his intelligence.

When the Hufflepuff Quiddtich team's practice ends, Haden goes down to the changing room to begin his ribbing on the team –a habit he has picked up since Cedric became Captain just so he could irritate said Captain, while Hermione stays at the stands, content with her book. Almost quarter of an hour passes before Hermione suddenly looks up from her book when a drop of water falls onto her page. She quickly gazes upward to the sky and notices the impending cumulonimbus clouds coming right over the grounds of Hogwarts. Another drop falls on her forehead before it slowly trickles down to her nose. An amused chuckle escapes her at the feeling. The Gryffindor closes her book and begins to slot it into her bag when the rain suddenly begins with heavy thuds of water. Hermione winces and quickly picks up her bag before hurrying down the stands.

As soon as she reaches the pitch however, the rain seems to have stop and the cold, wet splashes seem to have cease their impact on her skin. She looks up to see a blue nylon fabric over her head. Surprised, Hermione turns around to see Cedric smiling, underneath the rain with the umbrella in his hand shading her instead. "Take this, Granger. I'll see you in the castle later." Cedric's voice is almost muted by the loud drumming of the rain around them.

"You are all wet. You should get in here!" Hermione exclaims.

"If I did, you'd be wet yourself. The umbrella shades for one perfectly and two's a crowd for it." Cedric quickly explains. He takes her hand and places the umbrella's crook handle into it. "I'll be fine. Go on." The rain is falling heavily now and Hermione almost has to squint to see Cedric's visage clearly. The seventh year takes out his wand and mutters a spell as he taps her bag. She doesn't have to ask what the spell was for as she watches her bag magically dries itself and seemingly repelling any raindrops that incidentally makes contact with it. "Hurry on before you catch a cold." Cedric gives her a quick wave before running back under the rain into the changing rooms. Hermione almost laughs in lightheaded delight at the Hufflepuff's considerate nature.

* * *

_-Lost in a dream from which I can't awaken-_

Hermione's eyes pull open in surprise at the sudden warmth around her. Cedric smiles as he takes a sit beside her in the Room of Requirement. His school robe is carefully hung around her shoulders. "You fell asleep, Granger." Cedric offers in explanation.

Hermione rubs the sleep away from her eyes and look around the vast space around them. "Everyone else has left?"

"Well, it's been an hour or so since DA ended."

"I've been asleep for that long? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Because you were tired after the meet and sleep seemed absolutely necessary." Hermione raises an eyebrow. "You've been studying the nights away for your O.W.L.s alongside your research for Harry's recurring nightmares and your worry for the lad with his ban from Quidditch, haven't you?" Cedric says knowingly.

"Were you stalking me?" Hermione jokes, carefully avoiding Cedric's searching gaze. She knows he's looking for tell-tale signs of fatigue. Her lack of sleep hadn't been quite apparent to anyone, safe for the Hufflepuff who seemed attuned to her every detail. Inwardly though, she is grateful for his concern.

"You're easy to read." Cedric answers, dropping his gaze from her as he picks up his book. "If you'd like, you could sleep a little more and I'll wake you up before midnight."

"What are you reading?"

"Muggle book – Jane Eyre." Cedric gives a half smile. "Shall I read to you?"

"I've read the book quite a few times myself, are you sure you could tell it to me in a manner that I would find it fascinating?"

The seventh year laughs in good humor. He clears his throat and begins to read. In a low yet clear voice, Cedric's lips part, "I knew – you would do me good in some way, at some time, I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you," he pauses and looks at her with an ephemeral smile before looking away again within a second, "their expression and smile did not strike delight to my inmost heart so for nothing." The young witch finds her eyes slowly giving in to the tenderness of the voice from beside her, gently nudging her into a place where she finds herself at perfect ease. His voice continues, the words carefully weaving a pleasantly warm feeling within her as her minds draws to a tranquil plains.

When Cedric turns to the next page, he stops and looks at the fifth year beside him. An indulgent smile attaches itself to his amused features at the sight of the sleeping girl. He unconsciously hums a soft tune under his breath – a gentle melody that reaches beyond time and memory, filling the calm stillness in the air. The smile deepens when a fleeting thought comes to his mind. The memories he had shared with her then have gradually found their way back to him, alongside the feelings he could now easily recognize. Like a photobook, each image comes with a caption of the date and time, its when and how, and Cedric finds himself enjoying each recollection. Like small stalks of flowers to grow, they gradually fill the vast green field with much enthusiasm and beauty of life.

"Why did you stop?" Hermione murmurs with her eyes still closed.

"I just wanted to watch you for a bit." He answers honestly.

"Did you find anything fascinating then?"

"You've got a small smile on your lips – it's an unconscious thing on your part I reckon."

"I never knew."

"And it gives a faint dimple on your right cheek when you do that."

"You should stop staring at me so much." The Gryffindor replies in quiet amusement.

"You are fascinating to look at." Cedric answers, slightly bashful of his confession. The sleeping face that belonged to one Hermione Granger envelops his being with a warmth that shoots tendrils of sparks within him; sparks that speaks of a sense of completion and elation. She is his sanctuary. He hopes to tell her that one day.

"Will you whistle that tune?"

Cedric obliges without a reply. The melody echoes around them, sweeping their hearts to familiar mental images. The tune is soft and gentle, reaching their ears with fondness. The Hufflepuff Quidditch player thinks to himself how their memories have now interweave in a perfect thread of one, instead of splitting ends with twists and knots. Hermione slowly opens her eyes and smiles at Cedric before shifting herself closer to him. She leans her head on his shoulder and almost shivers in a burst of joy when she feels the gentle kiss on the crown of her hair. The kiss shifts to her top of her nose, like a drifting breeze barely touching her skin. Unable to resist, she looks up at the steel grey orbs.

"How can you be here, when a few months ago, I thought I had lost you?"

Cedric shrugs with a solemn look, "Because my place belongs to somewhere beside you?"

"Somewhere beside me or exactly beside me?"

The seventh year laughs lightly at her teasing words. "Beside you." He affirms. "Aren't there things where even the world changes with each passing time, it would still remain the same with that one thing that's beyond the comprehensible measure of a simple understanding?"

"That's quite a thought." She admits. Her gaze falls on the pile of books at their feet – a mixture of his and hers. "Complicated, isn't it?"

"But our hearts are meant to understand it, regardless. Where else do humans seek their solace and security if it isn't in each other, and in God of course."

"But some of us don't seek in a higher power without a knowing form or presence." Hermione answers knowingly.

"Those are the skeptics then. No harm in that." Cedric answers. "They have their own viewpoint and that's what keeps them in their own faith – but all the same, they still seek a human heart to share their every bit of life. I don't think we can ever push away a heart that responds to our own."

"Responds to our own," Hermione repeats with a thoughtful smile, "I rather like the way you had phrased it."

"Just like my own responding to yours, even without the fragments of what we shared. It was conclusive – it was you I was drawn to, compelled with, and none the other. My persistence wasn't based on a foolish instinct, but a natural yearning for the one person whom my heart seeks its companion with."

"There are those who find themselves falling out with that one heart as well." She slowly says. "When one thinks that this is it but over a period of passing hours and days, finds the heart no longer responding to their own."

"That's when one falls out of love, I suppose."

"It would be sad when it happens."

"And that's when they would find the rightful heart that would respond to them. Though I wonder," Cedric's gaze gives off a faraway look, "what happens if they don't find it."

"Then they will keep searching and perhaps, find it within time. Sometimes, they may not have to find it in a lover, but a sibling, or a good friend, or a teacher, someone unexpected. Didn't you say that we all seek for the feeling of solace and secure at all times? It's not just a lover who could provide the aforementioned." Hermione says in a matter-of-fact voice. Cedric nods. "I'm glad I've found that." She adds softly.

"In your family?"

Hermione nods, "My parents of course, and my grandmother – I think my heart beats the best with her because never once did I ever felt threatened by anything at all in the world when I'm with her." She looks at Cedric in the eye. "Though I do think I'm rather lucky to have found the closest match and the perfect match." A curious look answers her. "My parents and grandmother, and Harry – undoubtedly I think my heart corresponds with his, all of whom are the closest matches."

"And the perfect match?"

"Yours." She answers simply. "When your heart was faltering in the clutches of life, almost slipping through life's invisible fingers," Hermione bites her lower lip before boldly continuing, "I felt my own ceasing in its vigor because its reason of existence was threatened. And when you returned, so did it, but when I pulled away from you – it felt as if it was on the verge of a self-obliteration."

Cedric wordlessly pulled her to him, wrapping his other arm around her. "Don't ever put it through that again. The day it ceases its reason to live, that would be the day mine would die as well." Silence fills the moment, echoing Cedric's words within their very being.

"Do you think two hearts that companionably fit, are indiscernibly joined?"

"We are living in a magical world after all." Cedric smirks.

Hermione laughs. "That explains it much." She watches the Hufflepuff's lips form a grin of amusement. Her eyebrows knit in short question.

"You are practically glowing." He muses. Hermione consciously rubs her nose. Cedric's hand reaches out for it, "I didn't mean just your nose," he teases, "but your very being, is simply glowing. With overwhelming rapture?"

Hermione laughs again. "Is it that obvious?"

Cedric nods amusedly. "I hope my presence is a factor in said elation."

"It is."

"Infectious. I can just feel that very elation seeping into my being."

"Well it should." Hermione smirks playfully.

"If this is a reverie of my thoughts, I doubt I'd ever want to wake up from it."

"Well, you can't." The fifth year witch says softly yet firmly. Her brown eyes meet his. "Because I don't want you to." Her gaze averts in slight embarrassment, "Stay in this dream –with me."

"I will." Cedric murmurs before softly touching his lips to hers in tender sentiment as an agreement, and a promise.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all for the favorites, alerts and kind words :) Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all._


	11. Yet it swirls in the past

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

Yet it swirls in the past

_-The promise that could not be kept is burnt deep into my chest-_

Those who knew about them had kept their curiosity to themselves. Those who weren't too sure about them, were obvious with their interest – constant in whispers and murmurs, gazes and stares, gawks and gapes.

Cedric was nothing short of intelligence, quick to answer in classes, punctual and exceptional delivery of homework, knowledgeable in various subjects and topics, and it wasn't just academics that he excelled at, but he was equally adept in Quidditch as his house team's Seeker and Captain. One would have held their nose high at the merits mentioned, but he was humble and kind with a dash of manners that brought the respect of many.

Hermione was all of the above – save for the Quiddtich aspect; brilliant in her studies with her extensive knowledge and astuteness. She was none the sort of being proud and conceited, modest in her ways yet always confident and firm with herself. Though she was frequently with Harry and Ron, the Gryffindors knew she was more than just part of the Golden Trio – she was a sympathetic pat on the back, a kind smile from the heart, a murmur of good advice, in short – a friend to all.

Compatibly fitting with the brains and the heart, it would serve to be simply a perfect match, if it wasn't for the one striking fact. Blessed with good looks that drew the admiration of many girls, envy of many boys, the lad of seventeen was further fortunate with his tall stature alongside an athletically well-built physique. Cedric Diggory was the epitome of Hogwarts' most eligible bachelor, if said title was made available.

The young witch however, wasn't a striking beauty that one would stop and stare for long in awe and amazement of adoring admiration. Her dark hair was unruly and thick, her stature was typical of a fifteen year old's but with less to none to comment of.

It was this contrast that served to be a curiosity of many, the question in their mind, the wonder to behold in the students' little conversations. Yet when those who are perceptive enough, or at least – persistently curious enough to stare, they saw how different the Gryffindor witch seemed to be under Cedric's gaze. Always gentle and adoring, glowing with pride and respect, tender and endearing, his steel grey eyes easily reflected all the aforementioned.

In truth, to Cedric, Hermione was attractive in every manner possible. He enjoyed watching the curve of her lips, be it to pull in a smile or a frown, or the crinkled lines of her nose in thought or in deliberation. Her voice had his ears easily tuned to it, easily distinguishing her joy, annoyance, and upset, amongst the many other emotions. Her touches which were bashful and brief yet always warm and comforting had his heart soaring every single time his skin feels her fingers. He was fascinated by her laughs and learned to differentiate them within a short time.

Those who weren't too sure about them were amazed and grew even more intrigued by the pair. And those who knew, simply smiled knowingly in silent approval of a relationship so remarkably unique and committed.

So it came off as a surprise to many when Cedric Diggory came storming into the Great Hall one of the early days in June after the third task was explained to the Triwizard champions; his face impassive and void of any telltale reason to his apparent ghastly mood. His body language however, warned everyone that the Hufflepuff was not to be approached unless one had a death wish to be fulfilled. Hermione Granger walked in briskly within a minute of difference from Cedric's entrance, her face expressionless as the latter's and her gaze was hard and almost angry. It didn't take long for their friends to know a lover's spat was exchanged between the two. Ron had almost jumped out of his seat when Hermione sat herself down unceremoniously beside him with a sudden thud. Haden found himself greeted by droplets of sticky pumpkin juice when Cedric violently lifted his goblet with such vengeance that the former felt a tad bit pity for the goblet that's underneath his friend's crushing vice grip.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Neville bravely asked. Said witch gave a curt nod. Ron shot a look at Harry, as if prompting the green-eyed wizard to probe. Harry shook his head for a negative but Ron gave another short nod at Hermione's direction to persuade him. Harry sighed inwardly.

"Did something happen?" Harry asked, cautiously. He inwardly hoped she wouldn't unleash her fury on him. When her gaze lifted to him, Harry almost flinched at the irritation that seemed to emanate off her. A weak smile crossed his lips as he mentally cursed Ron.

"It's Diggory." She answered sharply. Heads turned at her answer but quickly turned away again when her gaze shifted to them. She looked at Harry, "He's being an absolute prat."

"How?" Ron asked before he could stop himself.

"By being smug about the third and final task." Hermione stabbed at her potatoes, and Ron visibly moved left by an inch to Seamus' side. "Honestly, how can anyone be so optimistic in facing a task that would possibly risk their life?"

"Because that's just the way Cedric is?" Harry shrugged. "He's an optimistic lad."

"Are you taking his side?" Hermione asked sharply.

"I'm not taking anyone's side, Hermione." Harry quickly answered. "I'm just saying that perhaps Cedric doesn't want to worry you."

"I know he doesn't." She sighed and placed her fork down on her plate, much to Ron's relief who had feared she might stabbed him by mistake in her vexation. "But somehow I can't seem to put my hand on it; it feels as if something would go wrong. Terribly wrong."

"Diggory's good with Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms." Ron offered in consolation. "Fred told me so at the World Cup. Apparently the lad's gotten Outstanding for both subjects every year. I reckon he should be capable for anything with that."

"We don't know what's in the maze, Ron." Hermione shot a worried look in Harry's direction. Although she was agitated and anxious with Cedric's participation, Harry was equally her source of worry and dread for the upcoming final task. He gave her his best reassuring look in return but both he and Hermione knew it wasn't quite his exact feelings inside.

"He'll be alright." Ginny reached over to pat Hermione's hand in comfort.

Hermione inhaled deeply and nodded. Her gaze shifted to the Hufflepuff table and saw Haden and Cedric in conversation, possibly of the same subject as she was on, seeing the serious looks on their faces. Cedric suddenly looked up, as if he had felt her gaze, and when his steel grey eyes met her brown ones, she quickly looked away.

Cedric frowned at Hermione's avoidance. A frustrated sigh escaped him. When he was finally finished with his dinner, he stood up at the very same time as Hermione did and their gaze met again. He shot a look that he knew she could easily discern as his request of them to talk, in private. She bit her lower lip in slight uncertainty before finally giving a short nod. Cedric's hand reached for hers as soon as they stepped out of the Great Hall, away from the eyes of the student body, and she didn't pulled away but instead further entwined her fingers in his.

It was just like that for them – whenever they fell into a clash of words of disagreement over anything at all, they wouldn't allow their anger and frustration to be vented on each other. It was odd but like a mutual understanding, they still sought for the other in some manner or another to wordlessly affirm of their unchanged feelings.

A cloud of silence fell about the pair until they reached the library at the favorite corner.

Hermione made to stand by the window and looked out at the darkness of the late evening. Cedric simply followed the Gryffindor and leaned himself against the window sill, their intertwined hands between them.

"The things that we do and we say sometimes, they aren't always our most remarkably intelligent moments." Cedric said without looking at Hermione.

"Which moments are we referring to?" Her tone of voice was sharp.

"Could I ask if you could listen for a bit without a thought of impartiality to your own judgment?" Hermione bit her lower lip and nodded. "When Professor Dumbledore explained of the Goblet, my only thought had been of the challenge it gave, something that I had never tried and never knew but knowing that I sought for that challenge to find myself."

"By dealing with cards that you have no idea of what the final odds is?" Cedric raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry." Hermione murmured.

A faint smile appeared on the Hufflepuff's lips as he was well aware of the witch's tendency to interject at moments even when she said she wouldn't. "It was a manner of testing my capabilities as a wizard." Cedric continued. "I was consecutively at the top of my year since I entered an education institution, noted for my grades and potential, but I yearned to know of how much do I really fare. Books and grades are different from experience and practical." He could see the unspoken discontentment in Hermione's eyes. "Granger, you would have to remember that when I was to place my name in the goblet, I had no one else but my parents to gain consent from and to think on behalf of. My parents have always been supportive enough," he paused for a moment as if in contemplation, "although my dad has quite the tendency to speak more than necessary but he means well, I suppose.

"I didn't imagine of how someone else would come into my life and be so much a part of it that my every intentions and decisions would then revolve around that someone as well. And no, I don't think it's a bother to have that someone to be in my life." He firmly said when Hermione's gaze shifted to him with an apologetic and regretful look in her brown eyes. "Honestly, Granger, there's nothing I would change on my end for meeting you at the World Cup and knowing you."

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" The sixth year looked confused.

"By saying that there's nothing you would change on your end." Hermione explained."It's as if you are implying that you would change something for me though if you could."

"Always perceptibly observant." Cedric mused. He took a deep breath. "If I could – I would change something for you."

"And what's that?"

"Meeting and knowing me." His voice was almost inaudible, quiet and disheartened with traces of apology.

Hermione's eyes flew wide and she immediately brought herself closer to the Hufflepuff. "Whatever are you talking about, Diggory?" She demanded in a hushed yet frustrated whisper. He looked at her and Hermione caught the contrite sorrow within his steel grey orbs. She shook her head, not understanding. Hermione felt her heart clenching with a silent crush of her breath. "Cedric." She has never called him by his given name unless unconsciously by her heart's own will.

"Then I could have you avoiding this unnecessary misery."

"Misery?" Hermione's eyes flashed in indignation. "You have honestly no idea how I am feeling. I could think of fifty adjectives to define the misery within me and possibly more," Cedric grimaced, "but only one adjective to define your one train of thought – imprudent." She freed her hand from Cedric's and reached for his cheek in a gentle grasp. "I may be upset with your participation but it has nothing to do with my feelings of being acquainted with you. There's nothing to change about my meeting you or even," she halted to gather her audacity, "falling in love with you. Diggory, please don't be sorry for your feelings or for my own.

"If there is a mistake in us even being together, we would have known it sooner – even before we were to be involved romantically. And there's none the other for me to give my heart to. It's yours, undoubtedly."

"Like that penguin theory Ron Weasley had?"

"Ron told you about that?" The atmosphere around them lifted to a lighthearted and easy one.

"Over a mug of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks with his brothers and Harry." Cedric gave her a small smile. "Giving yourself and your heart to that one mate for life." He chuckled in amusement, rather liking the penguin theory himself.

"I did tell him it was an absurd fact because it would mean the penguin's limiting itself with a gene pool that could possibly extinct within time."

"Won't you be my penguin?"

Hermione couldn't help but laughed. "A penguin?"

"I will be yours." Cedric offered with a grin.

"Whatever would I do with a flightless bird who desires the cold, icy weather?"

"I'll have you know that I would be an accomplished swimmer with excellent sight underwater."

"I am not planning to live underwater any time soon." The fourth year witch countered.

"I would be very much likeable by all."

"And that wouldn't help me to deflect the hordes of female fans you already have."

"You are certainly hard to please, Granger." Cedric smirked. Hermione laughed again. "Just let me promise you that I would try my very best to be that one companion of yours for life." Hermione flushed in a mix of embarrassment and delight but nodded anyway.

* * *

_-Shine on this life that's burning out-_

The promise that was made almost three week ago, two weeks and five days to be exact, was the only thread to Hermione's sanity that was strung to a high with the intense trepidation within her. Both Ron and she had been helping Harry with his wand techniques and though the raven-haired wizard was gradually getting much better there were times when the Gryffindor Seeker would still admit of his uncertainty in his own wizarding skills. Hermione hated to think of how Cedric would be feeling as well. She tried to not interfere with his practices and research, although there those days when she would quietly accompany him in said tasks. There was a nagging feeling within her conscience that something unexpected would happen and that very unexpected event would likely effect many within its influence.

Harry and Ron knew of her tendency to worry in extremities and tried their utmost best to assure her that the third and final task wouldn't result in anything anymore drastic than a few short injuries – it was the least anyone could expect, but it did nothing for their best friend's anxiousness. Harry had even decided to keep his mouth shut about his own fear for the sake of the young witch's sanity.

However, worrying is a funny thing indeed, it makes your imagination run wild with many mental images that may never come true and you know so, but yet you allow yourselves to be tormented by them anyway. Like an inevitable train of thought you cannot run away from, these mental images of pessimism draws you in, alongside twisted feelings of uneasiness, to a warped notion of a reality not there yet. Likewise, it was the same for Hermione. It was unfortunate that she chose to voice her thoughts to Cedric the day before the final task, while they were at the Owlery together.

He had leaned in with an intense gaze on her brown orbs, his breath almost hitched in slight tenseness, asking a silent permission and hopeful to be granted. A week after Valentine's, they had shared the first of their very few kisses that drew upon the intense passion for one another, but no matter the count – it always felt like their first as each was always inadvertently memorable and more often than not, made both sides feeling bashful with the bold display of affection yet knowing in their hearts it was a bond bridged. Yet like any pair of young lovers would, they also shared chaste and affectionate kisses on the cheek and the forehead when they had moments to themselves in quiet solitude, and the occasional stolen capture of the lips within a quick second in the heat of the moment as either one rushed off for a class, prefect duty, or a promised meeting with a friend.

Hermione however, had been too lost in her thoughts to provide a reaction and it stopped Cedric at his intention. The Hufflepuff had been constantly taught as a child that a woman's permission and rights should always be respected and he knew that applied to the romantic aspects of a relationship with the opposite gender as well. His voice broke her thoughts and the next words that left her lips had him reeling back, almost in resignation, and he patiently listened. He had tried to dissuade her from her worry but his own anxiety – which, like Harry, Cedric had chose to hide it from Hermione, had led to a lack of optimistic words to assure the fourth year witch.

"You may not make it out."

Cedric took a step back. "Pardon me, Granger?" Hermione quickly sought to correct the words that left her lips but it seemed to fall on deaf ears as Cedric shook his head in disbelief. "Do you honestly think less of me?"

"No, that's not what I meant." Hermione's voice was almost pleading, upset brimming at the edge of her frazzled nerves.

"That was an incredibly low blow. I understood your concern of my safety but to know that you actually scorned my wizarding abilities – that is certainly unexpected." Cedric took another step back, effectively avoiding Hermione's grasp.

"Don't." Her voice trembled with despondency.

"I should go." The sixth year's grey eyes were blazing with livid annoyance. He had never imagined himself being doubted by the person he trusted wholeheartedly and whom he thought would never forfeit from being his safe haven of faith and confidence. "I can't hold a decent conversation right now when my mind is going bloody insane with words that would hurt you in return." Cedric shook his head again to clear his thoughts. It burned at him to know he was feeling a desire to speak ill of Hermione. The anger blurred his rationality and Cedric knew it was better to leave than to say something he would ultimately regret. Cedric had then swiftly walked out of the Owlery, leaving Hermione in angry tears of frustration.

She had listened to the sounds of his shoes hitting the stone concrete, hurried and light, defining clearly for her to know the Hufflepuff was in much irritation enough to send the latter fleeing from the scene in fear of lashing his anger at her. Hermione had never seen him angry, neither did she saw him ever spitting a hurtful word at anyone nor losing his patience without a proper reason.

Hermione remembered all of it as she stared blankly into a space in the dark of the night at the Hospital Wing. The Triwizard Cup had come to an end with the third and final task bringing grief consequences for all. Her throat is scorched and raspy and she can't remember the last time she even touched a glass of water, or even a goblet of pumpkin juice. The fourth year's fingers are still and frozen-like under the moonlight's glow, her dark hair falling over her face to cover her brown eyes. The gold and maroon scarf hung loosely around her neck even though the night's cold chill is nipping at her skin.

Voices at deafening tones suddenly overwhelmed the silence of the room and Hermione almost yelped at the sudden intrusion of noise before she clasped her hands at her ears while squeezing her eyes shut. The voices didn't seem to get any softer and there were the anguish sounds and fearful bawling thrown in now. Hermione opened her eyes, ready to give a verbal lashing of her infuriated mood to the sudden intruders. But the sight of empty hospital beds greeted her amidst the shadows. Harry was sound asleep, save for a few murmurs every now and then, in one of those beds. Hermione swallowed hard as she realized the voices were in her head.

Silently, she made her way over to Harry's side. Her fingers gingerly reached for the sleeping wizard's forehead, gently wiping the beads of sweat away. He was having a nightmare and Hermione didn't know if she should wake him up. After all, even without sleeping, this was already a nightmare for her.

Hermione wondered how much sanity she really had in her that could help her from herself. Her heart was already crumbling with each ticking minute of the clock and she could feel the pieces fading away as they fell.

Ron had come by earlier to see Harry, and her, but was unable to quite say anything. He had offered to stay with her but the silent look in her eyes told him to please leave, so he did. It was the first time Ron had been able to read her without the communication of words, be it in a gesture, verbal or written form. He merely gave her a tentative pat on her lower arm to let her know he would be around for her before leaving the Hospital Wing.

It was only two days after the incident did Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons alike, discovered the rumor had been indeed true to its very form – Cedric Diggory and Hermione Granger had indeed been a pair of lovers. The past tense in the sentence had made them silent in heartfelt sympathy. Those who already knew and those had just gotten know, were equally sorry to have discovered a pair so compatible in brains and wits, being torn apart in a manner that was inconclusive.

The Gryffindors in particular, were upset at the sight of their fourth year bookworm. The color of her eyes had faded in its warm glow and the small smile on her lips was never seen anymore. They tried to talk to her but her answers were empty. She moved on with the rest of the days in the school term like she usually would but without a definitive enthusiasm or reason, just to simply make it through to the end of the term.

It seemed only Harry and Ron could reach her, however even both wizards occasionally felt their attempts were made in blind. Harry in particular, hadn't been too eager what with his own dreadful firsthand experience at the graveyard although he never failed to stay by her side to ensure she was never alone. Ron was subtle in his approaches and tried to distract her with random trivia facts about the wizarding world – he had even considered reading Hogwarts, A History just to get her complete attention. Most of the time, both lads just ensured they were at her accompaniment but without fussing over her for they knew the young witch would not have appreciated the gesture.

Out of consideration, everyone avoided mentioning Cedric's name within her audible range. Some within Hermione's situation would have probably threw a fit or even a hex, seeing as they were young wizards and witches in training and the fury of one with such magical influence was bound to be hazardous, or some would break down in hysterical tears. Hermione did nothing of the sort but remained silent as if the name was foreign to her. She became eerily quiet whenever one mentioned his name that the students soon understood the effect of the name on the Gryffindor witch was inwardly hurting her although she showed none of it on the outside.

Hermione herself found herself missing the call of his name. She would call him by his family name for the most of it, especially when they were first acquainted into the stage of friendship. She got used to the name so much that she kept it even when they were beyond the line of necessary politeness. His given name however, was only used in an unconscious manner or sometimes, an affectionate manner that hinted on a slight teasing indication. Likewise, he had gotten used to calling her by her family name that he stuck to it and the name Hermione only left his lips when he whispered in her ears like a precious secret.

Cedric's life may be the one that's hanging on the edge for that breathe of life, his light flickering dim within the darkness, but Hermione's own was threading on the edge as well.


	12. And promises of an eternity

Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling

Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November

* * *

**Perhaps Forever & Almost Always**

And promises of an eternity

_-To leave behind all the suffering you've brought to me is so sweet-_

The sun is nowhere in sight but its warm rays can be felt on their skin. Their legs swing almost in unison, back and forth with a carefree motion. Their intertwined fingers sit on the boy's lap and a tinkle of laughter escapes the girl when he brings her gloved fingers close to his lips in an almost innocent fashion. He pulls her closer to him and she squirms impishly to get away, almost toppling over in the process but his arm wraps around her in time before she falls to the ground from almost a meter in height.

"Planning top hurl yourself off here?" The voice is full of mirth.

"It's barely a meter."

"You'll probably hurt your ankle or your elbow in the process."

"Thank you for thinking less of my ability to fall on my two feet."

Cedric Diggory's body convulses in laughter. "Just being concern, Granger."

"Well, rephrase it, it sound awfully mocking."

"You are very mock-able." He grins.

"Sod off, Diggory." Hermione snorts in laughter and shoves the eighteen year old at his shoulder. This time, Cedric wobbles precariously and Hermione's grasp is a just a tad too slow to catch the sleeve of his shirt before the latter falls over and crashes into the snow with a loud thud. "Cedric!" Cedric groans as he rolls over onto his back. He looks up at her in a mixture of perplexed and pained expression. "I was – trying to bring the literal meaning to my words?" Hermione jokes feebly.

"Are you by any chance a closet bully?"

"I'm sorry, I really am. Are you alright? Did you break any bones?"

"You mean, 'did I break any of your bones'?"

The Gryffindor witch shrugs sheepishly, "Well, yes."

"Fortunately, my bones are still intact within their rightful location." Cedric smirks. He slowly pulls himself up to a sitting position and gradually stretches himself. "I imagine if you were the one to fall, we might hear a crack or two from your bones."

"Awfully evil, aren't you?" Cedric simply looks up with a nonchalant look. "Well, I'll prove your very words wrong, Diggory."

Before Cedric could ask how, Hermione pushes herself off the wooden fence that surrounds the Shrieking Shack. On a natural reflex, the Hufflepuff's arms shoot out to immediately catch her fall.

"Of all the childish things you could do, you choose to hurl yourself off a fence at a bruised Hufflepuff?" Cedric wheezes as he stares at the laughing witch in his arms, their limbs entangled in a mess. He watches as she pulls her long, dark hair from her face, shoulders still shaking with laughter. Her brown orbs' gaze falls onto him, brimming with mirth and amused delight. A grin crosses Cedric's lips.

"I couldn't think of anything better." The fifth year smirks. It is a Hogsmeade weekend and as Hogwarts' students walked around the quaint village, enjoying a butterbeer or two, or stashing up on sweets from Honeydukes, Cedric and Hermione chose to be away from the crowd and spend it at the Shrieking Shack's quiet grounds. Hermione's right hand playfully reaches up to the seventh year's hair to push his bangs away from his forehead. She starts picking small wayward locks of dark hair and pushes them around, making it in an incorrigible mess.

"Whatever are you trying to do?" Cedric asks incredulously yet he allows her to do as she pleases. He leans back with the palms of his hands supporting him as he watches the fifth year in amusement.

"Did you know next to Harry's, your hair is quite a mess?"

"Of course it is – when I have a Gryffindor witch who enjoys running her hand through my hair every other day."

"It's a nice feeling, as compared to my own." Hermione says defensively.

"But yours is fine the way it is."

"We always want what we don't have."

"Typicality of the human nature I reckon." Cedric shrugs. "But I beg to differ as an exception. Because I don't want any other from what I already have."

"I am not an item you can take possession of, Diggory."

Cedric gives her a bewildered look, "Whatever are you talking about, Granger? There was no mention of you in my words."

"It's in the context." Hermione answers with a smirk. Cedric laughs out loud. "Is it – not?" Hermione starts to feel slightly foolish now.

"Yes. Quite." The seventh years nods his head as he laughs again. "You amaze me, Granger. The things that you say, and do –"

"Alright," Hermione scrambles up with such swiftness that Cedric stops in his track of words, in wonder if he had said something wrong – again. His forehead creases in worry until a grin breaks out in the young witch's features. "You have honestly got to stop complimenting me because anymore of it and I think I'd be beyond the line of reality."

"Why? Is being in a dream horribly devastating?" Cedric teases. "Especially if said dream contains the charming presence of a dashing Hufflepuff." He wolfishly grins. Hermione laughs as Cedric tugs on her hands to bring her down to him again. She resists him, just like he knows she would, yet he keeps pulling anyway.

"You're about to pull my arms out of its sockets." Hermione says dryly as the soles of her snow boots digs hard into the snow to stand firm.

"Why do you even resist from falling?"

"Is that a literal or a figurative meaning?"

Cedric gives her a sly smile and without a word of warning, he suddenly lets go and gravity pulls Hermione backwards at the sudden lost of balance. She meets the ground on her behind with a loud thud and to Cedric's burst of laughter. "Are you alright, Granger?" He asks in between his laughs.

"Would you like to try that yourself to find the answer to your question?" The Gryffindor shoots him a narrowed glare.

"That," Cedric answers pointedly, "is a fair retaliation to the shove I've got minutes earlier and for the sudden impact of a weight on myself without warning." He pulls himself over to Hermione's side with an innocent grin. Hermione simply shoves him away again before stretching herself onto the snow-covered ground. The Hufflepuff simply follows suit, knowing full well her display of anger had been nothing but one in gesture of annoyance. He stretches out beside her and like a habit, his gloved hand seeks for hers.

Hermione feels the familiar touch of another's hand and instinctively wriggles her fingers around to wrap themselves around the hand. She catches sight of Cedric's small smile from the corner of her eye but she says nothing and quietly revels in the connection between the both of them. Brown orbs look up at the sky above and she sighs in contentment. Almost two months had passed since the day she allowed herself to fall for Cedric Diggory again – completely without a falling sense of doubt. The lad of eighteen has yet to gather their every memory shared together but the bits and pieces are falling into place gradually with each passing day. Still, Hermione couldn't help musing over her foolishness in thinking moments between them two had ceased its importance when he lost part of his memories. Instead, new ones are easily made each day.

Such as the time they studied in the library together before Christmas when she sat at their favorite table and he at two tables away diagonally from her. Cedric had literally sat on the table with one leg crossed over as the other swung in casual disinterest while his eyes never left the book in his hand whenever she looked over. But when she wasn't looking at him, his gaze turned upwards to her, watching her with quiet admiration. Hermione hadn't realized the Quidditch Captain's inconspicuous action until she suddenly looked up at a sneeze. Cedric had quickly looked away but not before a snort of muffled-like laughter escaped him.

"Were you staring at me?"

"Did you know that goblins raked up more wars than the giants, wizards and Muggles put together?"

"Yes, and don't dodge the question, Diggory."

"I wasn't staring."

"Oh."

"I was observing."

"Awfully funny of you."

A smile quirked at Cedric's lips as he shifted his gaze to her, his steel grey eyes hiding slightly beneath his dark hair.

Or the time when he walked her to the Gryffindor Tower on the day of her return to Hogwarts for the new term after Christmas holidays. She had been quiet and solemn due to the aftermath of Mr. Weasley's incident and how much Harry had been in connection to the incident – the disconcerted and worried feeling within her never left even as they returned to Hogwarts with Mr. Weasley recovering well at home and Harry still safe. Cedric had greeted her at the main doors with a euphoric smile but as he was about to drop his customary kiss on her forehead, he had noted her expression and opted to forgo the kiss but simply took her hand with a gentle nudge of fingers before wrapping around them.

Together, they walked up the stairs behind Harry and Ron, an understanding silence between the pair of young lovers. Cedric had been informed through owl of Mr. Weasley's incident and had taken to visit the Weasleys and her and although it had just been a day, his presence was more than enough comfort for Hermione. As they reached the Fat Lady's portrait, Harry and Ron went in first to give the pair a moment alone.

The Gryffindor witch was about to apologize to Cedric for her distant behavior when he turned to her with a touch on her cheek in a tenderness that conveyed how her apology wasn't necessary because he already knew and understood. "Have a good rest, Granger," he had said in a low voice, almost dropping into a whisper, "keep safe for me." Cedric lowered his head to her height and brushed his lips against her skin in the softest manner before leaving with a smile.

Of course, things weren't always affectionately blissful for the pair had their small share of argument and misunderstandings which almost drew them apart for days at times. There was once when she was furious enough to walk away from him, her levelheaded self ceasing its rational course. Cedric had been exasperated but he took deep breaths to clear his thoughts and for a few minutes, that was all he did before finally running after her. He had made it around the corner of a corridor that led to the other wing of the large castle to see the visage of the livid and upset Gryffindor witch's back walking furiously to the other end. With his windswept hair and almost breathless self, Cedric looked at her with pang of regret and a stinging feeling of disappointment at himself for being the cause of her upset.

"Granger!" She had stopped as soon as the word left his lips. "I'm sorry." For half a minute, Cedric was almost worried she might continue walking and ignore him but when she turned around instead with an apologetic small smile; his features break into a relief smile that mirrored his gladness.

"What are you thinking of, Granger?" Cedric's warm voice breaks her reverie.

"You."

"Good things I hope."

Hermione smiles and turns to meet Cedric's gaze. "Absolutely." She promises.

* * *

_-Behind a forced smile, I harbor a grown shadow-_

Valentine's had came around and left with Cedric Diggory unaccompanied by one Hermioe Granger who had been too busy with her plans for Harry's truth revealing article for The Quibbler. Not that Cedric had minded, he had understood the reason to her actions and fully supported it. In fact, the Hufflepuff was the first to know Hermione's plans as she presented the idea to him and asked for his opinion. She had wanted him to provide his account for the graveyard's incident too but couldn't bring herself to ask in worry that to recall the painful memory may cause an alarming trigger to his memories and thus hurting him in the process.

"Aren't you going to ask me as well?" Cedric smiled amusedly as he watched Hermione tie her hair into a ponytail.

Her hands dropped and her dark hair was left forgotten for a moment. "Do – do you want to?"

"I'm not going to have a mental breakdown with just a recollection of the nightmare." Hermione winced at his choice of words. "But thank you, for being concern of it."

"I didn't quite mean to – "

The Quidditch Seeker and Captain shook his head, effectively silencing her. "It's alright, Granger. I'd have chosen not to as well."

"Would you mind if I ask why?"

Cedric looked at the ground before looking up at her with a little quirk of his lips, his steel grey eyes held an uncertain look. "Because it would provide an inconvenient spotlight of interest onto me?" The look on Hermione's face grew apprehensive and curious. "I'm part of the Order now, Granger."

Her look of worry disappeared entirely as she flung herself into Cedric's arms for a relieved and congratulatory hug. "That's brilliant." She pulled back by a feet, "Since when?"

"A couple of days ago. I didn't tell you because I wasn't quite sure how you'd take it but if I knew you'd be as enthusiastic as this, I'd have told you sooner and save myself from the sleepless nights."

Hermione laughed. "Just promise me one thing." Cedric didn't have to ask to know what she was about to say. He simply smiled and nodded. "Keep yourself safe – for me."

Still, as much as Cedric doesn't mind playing the understanding role in the relationship, he does wonder in amazement of his patience for Hermione's constant escape to Harry's side in particular. He finds himself amused with her constant need to check on Harry and he even finds himself falling short on anger whenever she did so. Haden had joked his emotional nerve must have been damaged alongside his missing memories, to which the other boy earned a hearty smack behind the head for the comment. But Cedric saw how the undeniably close the pair are, or even as a trio with Ron Weasley. It was one and the other, or two – like a pre-packed of Chocolate Frog cards that you can't bear to separate because they seemed fitted together nicely.

Hermione still fits herself into periods of quiet time with him, in the library or by the lake or the quiet corridor by Dumbledore's office. She smiles and laughs each time she is with him, sometimes hurling a sarcastic remark or two when he says something equally teasing.

Nothing seems any different that he would notice of. Her face bears no hints of something within her heart that could possibly have her troubled. Hermione's hand still seek for his whenever he comes close, just as his own would. Their lips occasionally meet in a deeper passion and fascination for one another although with Hermione's virtue in mind, Cedric always ensures his hands never stray further from the blades of her shoulders and his kisses remain gentle yet inwardly passionate each time their lips meet.

Such as it is that it comes off as a bewildering situation for Cedric when he finds Hermione sitting alone in the library by the window at the far corner, a few weeks after Valentine's Day, with her face in her hands and her shoulders silently trembling. The Hufflepuff immediately goes to her side with a concerned expression. His hand carefully reaches to her shoulder so as to not frighten the young witch. "Granger?"

She doesn't look up even after a few minutes and Cedric finds himself suddenly desperate to be able to read minds or at least, have his wand with him to enable a simple incantation of a spell to get her to look up at him and tell him what is going on. "Granger, please. What's wrong?" A muffled answer greets him and the confused look etches deeper into his face. "I didn't get you, would you mind repeating that?"

Her silence brings him to sit beside her in resignation. In an unhurried manner, he places both his hands on her upper arm and pulls her close to him. She doesn't resist so he continues his action with a careful tug to bring her smaller frame to him. When her head falls onto his chest, still unwilling to look at him or to say a word, Cedric simply places his chin on the top of her head. The young wizard's arms go around her, wrapping her in their warmth and he feels Hermione curling herself deeper into the very warmth.

"When you are ready, just let me know." He murmurs softly with his chin still resting on the top of her hair.

They sit there as seconds tick away to become minutes before an hour passes. Being in the Ancient Runes section of the library help to avoid any disturbance of curious stares and chatters – something Cedric knew Hermione would appreciate to be away from.

"I'm sorry." Hermione's voice suddenly breaks through amidst the fabric of clothes and locks of hair.

"Unless you tell of the reason of your apology, I won't be able to decide if I should accept the apology or otherwise." Cedric jokes quietly.

"For being silent for the past hour."

"Apology accepted. Would you like to tell me why you hiding yourself in a corner of the library?"

The Gryffindor, without looking up at him, gingerly answers, "Harry's been having awful nightmares and they keep getting worse."

"Has he told Professor Dumbledore or even Snuffles?"

"He's trying to keep it to himself but I can see he's on the verge of breaking his sanity. There's this wild, dazed look in his eyes in the mornings after his nightmare. Almost delirious."

"Have you tried talking to him?"

Hermione shakes her head, "He keeps avoiding it." She suddenly moves and Cedric moves his chin away to avoid a collision. "I'm just awfully worried with his increasing nightmares. It sounds awful from what Ron tells me."

"Granger, you can't protect him from them, unfortunately." Cedric gently says.

"I know but," Cedric waits for her to continue, watching her swallow hard, "but I have a feeling that this could result very badly."

"Badly?"

"We could lose someone." She whispers with a look of aghast. "We almost lost Mr. Weasley the first time Harry had those visions, and now – "

"You reckon Harry might be next."

"Him, and you."

Cedric pulls her close to him again, "Don't think those thoughts now, Granger."

"The both of you got away then and Voldemort," the name doesn't even bring a flinch to Cedric's being, "wasn't happy with it at all. Just look at the Death Eaters and – "

"The Order's doing their best and we're not going to allow Harry or anyone else for that matter to be harmed." The seventh year lets out a short, almost inaudible sigh. "Have you been plagued by this concern for weeks worth?"

"Almost."

"Granger, shouldn't your O.W.L.s be of your concern? Concentrate on that and let the Order worry about the rest. As for Harry, I'll talk to him. Professor Snape's helping him with Occlumency lessons, isn't he?"

"Well, yes."

"Granger, is there something else you wanted to tell me?" Cedric peers at the young witch's face closely.

Brown orbs looked at him with a desolate expression, "I had dreams of you. In it, you were the one who was found dead at the Ministry." Cedric finds himself wordless at her confession. "Don't you see, Diggory – I can't face the thought of losing neither you nor Harry, but it feels I would each time I see myself in the mirror and I see Harry." Hermione sighs and pulls away from the wizard to look out the window. The fifth year plasters her nose to the cold glass, smiling with the traces of melancholic hopes. Her fingers reach for Cedric and he knowingly comes closer and looks out the window with her. Their warm breath creates misty white traces on the glass as no word is exchanged between them. "We've got another two years in our school years, you with your last."

"If you are trying to imply that we should part ways now, it's a firm no on my part." A grin cracks at Cedric's lips despite the solemn tone of voice.

"No, I wasn't." Hermione shakes her head. She squeezes the seventh year's hand lightly, feeling the warmth enveloping her and rushing up to her every sense and knowing full well she never, ever wants to part with it. "But I was wondering how much longer do we have to be under this cloud of foreboding darkness."

"Perhaps it will be soon," Cedric shrugs, "or a few years."

"Perhaps even more." Hermione sighs. She looks down at their entwined hands. "Reckon we'll be to keep this up?"

"Not so much on the hand holding cause mind you, I reckon much I need my hand to write and hold the fork -"

The fifth year laughs and Cedric playfully tugs her to him and captures the young witch's lips in a second's worth of amused adoration. "Wherever it is that your adventures take you with Harry and Ron, I'll be there."

"You'll come along?"

"Possibly. But there are journeys which only the Golden Trio would have to make I believe, and during then, I'll be here waiting."

"You would positively need buckets of patience then."

"Try me, Granger." Cedric murmurs softly. He smiles as her brown orbs meet his.

"Let's try to make it through this year." Hermione's voice is hopeful.

"Whatever happened to forever and always?"

"Happy endings are never too easy within our grasp." Her voice doesn't falter from fear or anxiousness, but steady with confidence – letting Cedric know she isn't challenging him but merely stating a common fact yet one that she believes they can turn it otherwise.

"So we shall settle for the second best," he answers before adding, "for now."

"Second best?"

"Perhaps it's forever, and almost always." His voice brims with optimism alongside a dash of hope. Hermione smiles in response and nods. Cedric drops a soft kiss on her forehead.

Happy endings aren't always within our grasp so soon – we can never tell what may change yet we can believe that no matter what, the pain, the anxiousness and the sadness will fade away one day and the smiles sought after for an everlasting moment of our life will gradually knock at our door. Hermione and Cedric hopes just as much.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you to all who've been following this fic and for every kind support you've given. And to sum it all up for this fic; _

_"So the story goes, and it slowly comes knocking to discover its truth. Delving in the memories, while wishing and hoping on a dream - only to tumble helplessly. Yet we keep believing, like living in two sides of a coin; of unspeakable tears and hidden hurt, and of bliss in a safe haven. Yet it swirls in the past, and promises of an eternity."_

_Hope you've enjoyed. Happy new year and thank you again._


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